


Reading Ice

by adozenbottledtales



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Diversion from Canon, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-01-15 10:01:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adozenbottledtales/pseuds/adozenbottledtales
Summary: Captain America has signed the Sokovia Accords and the world has settled to peace for now. But peace comes with a price. The Winter Soldier in a Psychiatric Ward was a high price to pay, but when the world called for peace, the soldiers answered.Dolores Mahr is more than surprised when the famed Captain America pays a visit to her apartment, and even more so when she learns what he asks of her.





	1. Day 0, 21:05

**Author's Note:**

> First post ever, so here goes nothing!

Dolores burned her lips on the coffee mug before she had even taken a sip.

"Boiling water is hot, no shit," she scolded herself and returned to the patient files she had been working on for what seemed like hours now. Her eyes, however, refused to focus and she glared at the coffee mug, willing it to cool down. It wasn't even that late yet, barely past nine, but she hadn't really slept that day and her boss requesting her to stay home today hadn't really helped her busy mind settle down to sleep. Dolores was prone to worrying, no matter what her common sense told her, so despite there being a folder in her living room that proved both her surgical and psychological expertise, she couldn't get the fear of being fired out of her mind.

It was probably nothing. Maybe too much staff. A refurnishing of her room. She had missed a holiday. It could be anything. And yet, no matter how deep she dug herself into her work, she couldn't seem to concentrate. Yet another thing that made her nervous. Normally she loved her job and could lose herself in it, but now her mind couldn't pick any meaning out of the symbols her hand had scribbled in the files sometime that week.

A knocking at her apartment door tore her out of her thoughts. Thankful for the distraction she jumped up and rushed to the door.

A groan escaped her lips as she looked at the man before her. Ok, something was wrong with her. She had started seeing things. There stood Captain America, jeans, jacket, blond hair, blue eyes and all. She had definitely read too much last night. Well, why did the memo of her temporary suspension come in the middle of the night?! She hadn't been able to go sleep after that. That and the new meds had her body apparently running havoc. The mirage in front of her looked slightly confused as she turned away.

"Are you Dr. Dolores Mahr?" The confusion in his voice was evident, obviously, since her mind couldn't project it into his face anymore as she had turned around.

"Sure am. Come in, reek havoc, have some coffee." She sighed and went back to her files. Her coffee was still steaming happily away. The door closed. Dolores veered around. The Captain was still there. Her face turned bright pink and she rushed back into the hall.

"You closed the door, oh my god, I am so sorry. Yeah, sure, I'm Doctor Mahr, please excuse me, I am terribly sorry. Please sit down, would you like some coffee, it's still hot and all?" At that, the Captain interrupted her ramblings with half a smile.

"No need to worry Dr. Mahr. I take it you aren't too well? If now does not suit you, I would be happy to come by at another day," he said as he retreated back to the door with a look at the forming purple shades beneath her eyes.

"Oh no, really, please stay. I just haven't slept last night, work's giving me some trouble. Plus some new meds for my migraines and I just thought my body hadn't taken them too well. And I wouldn't wanna be scaring Captain America out of my house, Nessy would kill me." She walked back to the kitchen table and stuffed away her files, her mind just barely keeping up, reminding her of the confidentiality thing, before offering the Captain a chair.

"Just Steve is fine, actually."

"Just Steve, sure, no thing," Dolores absentmindedly nodded and tried to fetch another cup without showing off her collection of ceramic fangirling. She happened to find a neutral looking white mug and maneuvered it out of the lot to fill it with coffee and set it in front of the Captain.

"Now, how can I help Steve Rodgers," she asked, trying not to sound like she had his biography in her shelf.

"Well, it's rather simple. Have you been up to date with the news?"

"Glued to the screen," Dolores confirmed before noting what exactly she had just said. But the Captain seemed not to notice it. A quick scan of his face told her that he was somewhere else in his mind, definitely outside of joking territory.

"Then I'm sure you know about the Sokovia Accords." She nodded her affirmative and he continued.

"Well, UN supervision requires my friend Bucky to be signed into a Psychiatric Ward. Stark organized a special facility to be built near to the one you're working at. And after some discussion with the Director of your hospital, he decided you should be Bucky's psychiatrist." Dolores' eyes widened in shock. She had been wondering what all the racket outside of the hospital for the last few months had been but had never bothered to check on it. When she didn't answer, the Captain continued.

"Well, they brought him there today, and when I wanted to speak to you the director said you were on leave so you could come tomorrow unbiased. But he gave me your address and ensured me it would be okay if I dropped by, though I'm not so sure that was correct." Dolores still didn't answer but the silence startled her out of her amazed trance.

"Oh no, it's no problem. Really. Uhmm, well... that's quite the bomb," she nervously chuckled. "I ... I'm not quite sure what so say. Though I must say I'm glad I'll have the chance to see if I can help. I had some time in surgery, that usually helps with patients from war, so it might be some good here too. Honestly, I can't really say anything before I've spoken to him. Though I really appreciate you coming over." The Captain nodded.

"Then please forgive my intrusion. I'm just really worried. All the doctors he's had so far have done him nothing but harm, and he's had enough of that." Following an impulse, Dolores took the Captains hand to draw his attention to her. The blue in his eyes was truly startling.

"You do not have to worry anymore then, Steve. I will not promise anything before I know what I am dealing with, but let me assure you, I will do my best and not hesitate to do anything that might help your friend." Steve nodded and smiled a smile that seemed to struggle upwards against the weight of his emotions.

"He is very important to me."

"I know, I can tell. And I am glad he has you. It will help. If all goes well, I might even be able to sneak you in outside of visiting hours." She smiled at him and he mimicked her. Then he pulled his hand from hers to reach into the pocket of his jacket.

"Ahem, Stark had this sent to the director and he said I should let you know." He quickly pushed a piece of paper over the table, clearly uncomfortable with its contents. Suspicious, Dolores picked it up and flew over the printed letters. When she reached the number printed on the middle of the page she clasped her hand over her mouth.

"The way I understood it, you will only be working with Bucky and Stark will pay the expenses."

"Oh, not just the expenses. With that raise, I could buy a house just in the first two months!" Steve smiled quietly at her bluntness.

"I take it that you do not mind then?" His worried tone had her looking up and smiling.

"Of course not. I'm always happy to help, especially if I can help Captain America. You have to do me a favor though." Steve agreed all too happily. He was now convinced this woman would really try giving Bucky a chance, not let him sit around in a cage.


	2. Day 1, 8:15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolores meets Bucky for the first time and sees that she has her work cut out for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took longer than I wanted it too. Thanks for the wait, I’ll try to have the next chapter sooner than this.

Dolores made a mental note to wrap the book the Captain had signed in some paper when she got home as she pulled into the parking lot of the clinic. She found the spot designated for her empty and for once was relieved that she would be able to find her car at the end of the day. For as organized and on top of things Dolores was when it came to working, as chaotic was her mind as soon as she stepped outside of the hospital.

She had to walk back to her car twice before she could enter the new building, once because she had forgotten her backpack with the files, and the second time because she had left her ID in the car and the new building was apparently Fort Nox. At the sight of the tiny sheet of plastic with the picture of a confused and bad-hair-day Dolores on it, the swat guy in front of the door let her pass. Inside, Director Ebert was waiting for her eagerly.

"Good morning Dolores! How are you?" His voice was cheerful as if it could distract her from the white tiled floor, the lack of windows, and the fingerprint scanners at every door.

"Good, good, thanks," she lied. To say she didn't enjoy a chat before work would have been a lie, but today was different, today she was tired and had to put up with a change in her work routine simultaneously.

"Very well. Please excuse the tardiness of the memo yesterday, but we weren't sure how the Patient would take to his new surroundings, and I didn't want you to meet him under such extraordinary circumstances." Dolores noticed Ebert's refusal to call Barnes by his name and brushed over it as if she hadn't heard it.

"Mr. Rogers paid me a visit yesterday. I take it I am now assigned to Mr. Barnes only?" Ebert nodded.

"On intense request of Mr. Stark. I must say, I regret having to give up one of my best psychiatrists." Dolores ignored the compliment like she always did and let her gaze wander around the building. Unlike the clinic, the new compound hadn't been build with a friendly environment in mind. The floors were made of white tile, easy to clean, the walls were blank and equally white. The entrance she was standing in was a small room with a window in the left wall, behind which sat a guard, eying them. The entrance to the building was barred by a solid metal door, the workings of which Dolores couldn't even guess. But it made sense. The Winter Soldier was America's most infamous serial killer, assassin, and horror story in one. Only because of Captain America's intense request had he avoided the death penalty.

"Well then, I will set straight to work. Before I do though, please enlighten me on the bounds of the building. I don't want to trigger an alarm or something." Ebert smiled and turned to the door, motioning her to walk with him.

"Sure. This is the first door, it has to be opened by fingerprint, and only a handful of people have access." Ebert demonstrated the workings of the door by pressing his thumb on a small green pad next to the door. Heavy locks clicked open and the door swung inwards. Dolores wondered whether the fire department would approve. Most likely not. Well, actually, most likely yes. Rather have the Winter Soldier burn than escape once more.

Ebert continued walking and Dolores trailed behind. After the first few doors, she understood the thinking behind the building. Only a few get in, those few get out, absolute simplicity, and mostly everything was self-explanatory. She would have an office that had been furnished so that it subtly allowed the setup of a small bed, a kitchen to herself as the facility didn't hold enough people to justify a cafeteria, and, next to her office, her own little monitoring room with about twenty different camera angles that allowed her to monitor about every single part of the two rooms the Winter Soldier was held in. Currently, he was sitting on his bed, staring at the wall. Dolores didn't pay too much attention to the cameras, she knew she wouldn't be using them often.

Ebert rambled on, obviously proud of the bunker he had built for their prime patient, listing numbers and building components Dolores didn't pay attention to. Only the phrase "absolute authority over the Patient within the bounds of the compound" stuck with her. Good.

"Okay, thanks, Director. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would get to work now." Dolores coated her interruption with a sweet smile and Ebert nodded, not taking any offense. He never did, at least not with her.

"Very well. Be careful around the Patient, he is dangerous and beyond unstable." Dolores nodded and breathed a sigh of relief when Ebert had left. She allowed herself a moment of solitude before she dropped her stuff off at her office. Barnes was still sitting just like he had half an hour ago, and if it hadn't been for the timestamp, she would have thought the feed to be frozen. Another deep breath and she made her way to the Winter Soldier.

***

Bucky tensed as he saw movement in the window behind which he knew a team of soldiers was watching him. He didn't like it, but he hadn't expected anything else. This was his new cell now, and it was hell more comfortable that the glass box SHIELD had kept him in. Not that he cared about comfort. Everything in him screamed to get out, but he had seen the security measures of this building. No way even he was leaving. He couldn't anyway. Part of Steve's deal. And he didn't want to mess that up even more.

His attention was drawn back to the figures behind the window. He couldn't see too much as it was mirrored on his side, but his enhanced ear could hear the dampened voices. A woman was screaming. He couldn't understand what, but he amused himself with the image of a team of swats being yelled at by a woman.

***

"Jesus Christ," Dolores muttered as she let herself into the cell. She hadn't been too happy about the camera feed but had understood its necessity, but at the sight of the window that robbed Barnes of any privacy, she had lost it. Not that the swat team behind it could have done anything about it, but they were the closest victims in range, and she doubted being screamed at by a woman of her statue bothered them.

"Did they consult even anyone about this place, like even a student?!," she kept muttering as the door closed behind her. She let the pencil and notebook she had brought with her clutter onto the table.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes. Can I call you James? We'll be spending some time together, so would it be okay for me to call you that?" She looked up and met a blank stare tinged with mistrust. She waited for an answer, but when he didn't offer one, she simply continued as if he had. She was used to patients that wouldn't speak, and she knew, that building an interaction was important, no matter how one-sided it was.

"Okay, I'll just call you James, and you tell me if that's not okay with you. I'm Dolores Mahr, and it seems I've drawn the shortest straw," she chuckled as she sat herself down on the table she had just put her notebook on. She was nervous, the cold blue eyes staring at the wall, not noting her, unnerved her more than she would like to admit. And she rambled when she was nervous, which wasn't too bad with a patient who wouldn't speak.

"Meaning I will be working with you from now on." She looked around, rattling her mind how to start, and decided to just get going with the basics.

"I'll just get started on the basics then. Since you'll be staying here some time, I think it's important that we work together to make this work as well as possible. You tell me anything you're uncomfortable with, I'll see what I can do. I'll be with you once in the morning and once in the evening, for how long is your choice. If you don't need me, I'll just pop by, but I can stay as long as you need me to, I have no other obligations. What else...," she murmured as she took up her notebook to see what other information she could give.

"Ah, yes. Visiting hours are WHAT?!" Dolores jumped from her seat and raced to the door, noticed she had nothing to get and started pacing back to the table. "Hell, that's ridiculous! Who the FUCK decided that?!" She looked up and met James' slightly amused stare.

"Okay, seems like your visiting hours are Saturdays only, from 12 to 14. Jesus, two hours?! What the fuck?" She tried to get her rambling under control and turned to James.

"Sorry, for the language, but apparently I missed the memo that I'd be working in a bloody PRISON instead of a HOSPITAL," she shouted at the nearest camera. It wasn't as satisfying as she had hoped, shouting at a black dot up in the corner of the room.

"You are aware those also transmit sound, right?"

"Hell yeah, I'm aware! Counting on it! Geez." She took a deep breath and tried to settle despite the fact that he had just spoken for the first time. Very good. That was at least one barrier down. But she didn't get her hopes up too high, he could still revert back to silence. She smoothed out her curls that had started rebelling against the tight bun she had forced them into and went back to the table.

"Okay. Sorry about that. I've just learned that I am really going to hate this place."

"You just don't matter," he commented, as quietly as before. Dolores noted the fatigue in his voice and despite his constant fixation at the wall, she could see it in his face. His body seemed exhausted, despite the tense pose he held on the bed.

"What do you mean?" She asked the question nonchalantly, brushing over the importance of his reaction. If he would answer a direct question from her, he was willing to interact, willing to work with her. Silence settled over the room and Dolores nodded.

"That's okay, you tell me whenever. So... what else... ah, yes right. There will be food brought to you thrice a day, feel free to make any requests on that matter. That panel over there will allow you to call me or the guards. It can also get you phonecalls with my clearance, so talk to me about that. There is a yard you can visit four times a week, plus in visiting hours, again, ask me, I have the clearance for that. If you want anything like books, paper, TV, I'm the person to talk to. I'm here from eight till seven and depending on my workload even longer. I'll make sure to tell you when I leave and when I'm here, I tend to be quite irregular about my work, at least when it comes to the stuff not regarding the patients." She flipped through the notes she had made on the first few pages, checking whether she had forgotten anything.

"Okay, that's the basics for now. Any questions for me?" She looked up to scan his face, but except for the exhaustion she had noted earlier, there was nothing. Either he was too tired to react or he was hiding from her. She guessed the latter and decided to read up on everything she had about James Buchanan Barnes, be as prepared as possible for tomorrow.

"Okay. Then, if you don't mind, I'll be in my office, getting the paperwork sorted. It's just down the hall, so if you need anything, I can be there in like five minutes." She observed his face, somehow feeling that it would tell her more than his voice would. There was a sliver of relief she caught before his face went back to the expressionless mask. He wanted to be alone which made complete sense. This was a completely new environment, and it sure as hell wasn't a nice one.

"I'll see you later then." She took up her notebook and pencil and pressed her thumb on the little green pad to get through the door.

***

The metal door the doctor had just passed through closed and Bucky was back to solitude. He shot another glance at the mirror but he could detect no movement behind the glass, nor was there another sound except for his heartbeat in the room. He tried to calm his racing mind and reach the meditative state he had so easily been able to archive between Hydra missions. But the doctor's words clashed around in his head and denied him any peace he could have gotten. He had to agree with her one thing; he already learned to hate this place.


	3. Day 1, 18:24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolores goes back to start working with James and finds herself much closer to him much faster than she thought she would.

The fourth cycle of her alarm woke Dolores. She jumped up, slightly confused as to where she was when the memories came flooding back. James. She had been working on his file and had eventually gone over to reading the book about the Howling Commandos and Barnes in particular, trying to learn as much as she could about him. She checked her phone. 18:25. Just in time for her second session with James. She wanted to try and talk to him this evening, try to decipher how many shards made up his mind.

Dolores got up and splashed some water onto her hand to rub her face awake, before she made her way to the vault, as she had decided to call it.  
The books were all vague about the part she was most interested, his life after the fall from the train, so she would have to get it from him. But that, she knew, was easier said than done. James didn't trust her, obviously, so getting anything from him would be a long term process. She had just settled on already starting it tonight. It was as much as she could ask from her tired mind. The door slid open and revealed that James hadn't moved a millimeter from where she had last left him. He tensed up as soon as the door opened and opened the eyes he had kept closed before she had come in. The stare was blue and cold. Dolores tried to meet it with a smile, not sure whether she was any convincing. She noted the untouched tray of food on the table and went to sit down on the chair she had occupied earlier.

"Before we start, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. As far as first impressions go, that wasn't a very good one I fear. I just haven't slept in two days and my body's not keeping up with it too well. That, plus an all new office, and I was a bit beside myself. And I tend to talk a lot when that happens. Consider the last session as an introduction to the building by my weird twin." She played with the pen in her hands and straightened the paper on the clipboard.

"Now, I'll tell you a bit about how I'm planning to run this, and you interrupt me at any point if you have questions, complaints or suggestions." Not that she expected that he would, but she wanted to give him the choice to. From what she had been able to gather from the book, he wasn't very used to being given a choice, so she had decided to ease him into that slowly by giving him options in conversations or other small things, whether he would take up on them or not didn't matter for now.

"Like my weird twin stated before, I'll be with you twice a day. In that time we'll mostly talk, but we can also do other things, whatever you're up to. I'll try to mix it up, have it not be as boring, so let's see what I can come up with. Not to say the talking will be all fun and games. I will have to learn a bit about you so that I can see what would best help you, but we'll go at your pace." She took a deep breath and tried to wind up the courage for the next part of the little speech she had prepared. Geez, that stare was intimidating. She wasn't sure whether he was actually trying to chase her away, but she sure as hell wouldn't let it work.

"I know you don't trust me right now, and that's completely understandable. And you don't have to trust me, I won't make you. I'll just be here for you, trying to get through my agenda, however slow you want to go, however long you need. So if you don't want to tell me about you, that's absolutely okay, and if you still don't in a few months that's also okay." She breathed and tried to calm herself. If he could just blink maybe. Have his nose twitch. Nope, nothing.

"It will just be the two of us unless you want to see someone other than me, then I'll have that arranged." She flicked through her notes on her clipboard, but a look at the food had her abandon her plans. Maybe one day she'd stop wasting her time with them.

"You haven't eaten. Is there anything you don't like, are allergic to, stuff like that?" He shrugged his shoulders, just the tiniest of movements. She looked at the tray and tried to pick out what the food exactly was.

"I am not hungry." His voice was calm, any quieter and it would have been a whisper. She wondered if the cameras could pick up sounds that quiet.

"Yeah, no wonder. What is that even?," she puzzled as she pushed the mystery mass around on the tray.

"I mean, I'm not the greatest cook, Nessy can tell you stories, but I am not sure whether that is actually food." She heard the slightest rush of air as he laughed silently.

"If you want to take the risk, I can make your food. They built a small kitchen into my office, not enough people to stock a cafeteria. I can just make more and get you some. Like I said, I'm not a genius cook, but I can do hell better than this." She looked up, wanting to catch his answer, but got only another shrug.

"I'll just do that then. Because this is really dehumanizing. It may be a fancy cage, but we're not animals." She tried to shake off her disgust at the food and made herself concentrate back on the conversation.

"So, when was the last time you ate?" He just shrugged his shoulders again.

"Don't remember." He stared at the wall behind her as if his mind was too tired to process the complexions of a human face. Dolores tried to read the signs of his face, tried to tell by the slightest unnoticeable shifts what he was thinking.

"And sleep? You seem exhausted." A twitch of the shoulder, his right, flesh one.

"Don't know. Week or something." Dolores nodded and pretended to write something down in her paper to hide her shock. How was this man even still walking? No wonder he wasn't in chatting mood. She looked at her phone. 18:41. She couldn't already leave.

"Geez... Is there anything you need? I could get you medication to help with the sleeping." He just shook his head.

"Please think about it. It's essential that you sleep. Not only your body needs that time..."

"I'm fine," he interrupted her. His voice was not loud, just at a normal level, but even that slight rise made his whole posture threatening. Fear jumped at her, digging its claws into her gut, but she breathed and tried to keep her face. Fear would help neither of them now.

"Okay. I'm sorry I pushed that. I understand you don't want to speak to me right now. Instead, I could tell you some things about me. If I get to know you, it's only fair you get to know me too. Or I could leave you to yourself for the night if you don't want to talk anymore."

"Leave," he muttered, still staring at the wall. Without showing how much his sudden hostility had scared her, she got up and turned to leave. Her thumb hovered over the door, but she couldn't quite bring herself to go yet.

"I know I can only guess how much you must despise this place and me. I know you're trying to not give me anything, and that's fine. I just wanted to let you know that it's not working too well. I know why you think I don't matter. You think this is just another prison, another SHIELD glass box, and I'm just another imp doing my job." Dolores took another deep breath and pressed her thumb onto the green glass plate. The door slid open.

"I'm not though. I am ready to help you if you want that." With that, she stepped through the door and left the Winter Soldier to his thoughts.

***

Bucky looked after the doctor as she left and kept staring at the spot she had stood after the door had closed. The hurt in her words had surprised him, and he found he regretted being so harsh to her a little. As he considered her words, he began to see the time she had spent with him today in a different light. He had simply thought of her as a random doctor, another whitecoat using their doctorate as an excuse to stab around his mind, piece him apart and leave him broken. But maybe she wasn't. Immediately his instincts reared up, warning him of the danger of letting her in. As he tried to compromise with himself to at least see how tomorrow would go, the first jab of pain came. It was only a small stab in his temples, nothing he hadn't felt before, but soon there were glowing hot knives searing into his brain. He clasped his hands around his skull, trying to crush it to stop the burning, doing his best not to scream.

***

Dolores didn't bother to return to her office. She had her ID in her pocket and had had to leave her keys with the guard in the front. She smiled at him briefly, more reflex than courtesy and rushed out of the building to get to the cool evening air. She tried to shake off the disappointment and the hurt that clenched to her stomach as they quickly turned to anger. But before she could loose her redhead temper, she sighed and tried to reason with herself. It was the first day, that was always chaos. She had no idea how damaged he truly was, she didn't even try to make assumptions. He was probably just as confused and hurt as she was, only he had been taught to express that very differently. And with Stark paying her bills, she could take all the time in the world. All she could do was try her best and offer him any help she could get him, and then it would be up to him to take it. And that would involve being open on her part, exactly what she was not doing right now. Anger was exactly the wrong response. She tried a smile, and after somewhat convincing herself, she kept walking to her car.

There awaited her next surprise. The Captain leaned against his bike, parked next to her car on Ebert's spot. She tried to lose all the stress her face and body might be showing and greeted him with a smile.

"Steve, hello. Nice to see you again." He mimicked her smile, trying to keep his attention on her, but a quick glance at the compound confirmed her suspicions as to why he was here.

"You don't have to worry," she tried to assure him, keeping her gaze fixed on his. He smiled and looked down.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You're just a very honest person. That's good." Unlike his friend. Her expression darkened for a moment at the thought and to her discontent, Steve caught that.

"What's wrong? You seem... upset." She smiled and twisted the keys in her fingers.

"Nothing wrong, really." She sighed and looked up. "I know you want me to tell you about J... Bucky, but I can't do that. Doctors confidentiality. He trusts me little enough as it is." Half a smile plucked as Steve's lips at the comment.

"That's him alright."

"I mean, it's completely okay, I have time. I just wish ..." She sighed and collected her thoughts, trying to decipher what she actually wanted to say. "Has he told you anything about what Hydra did to him, or how you experienced him? That would already help me a lot." Steve's gaze had moved back to the compound and he nodded, not looking at her, his brows furrowed.

"Sure, will do, but some other day. It seems you're still needed." Confused, Dolores turned and saw a swat running towards them.

"Dr. Mahr, you have to come. There is a problem. Now." He turned and left. Quickly Dolores turned to Steve.

"You can't come inside."

"Then I'll wait." Dolores turned to follow the swat with quick strides and a quicker heart. The doors opened much too slowly and she just dropped her keys on the floor when the guard shouted after her.

The picture of the vault when she reached it had changed drastically. About twenty swats were inside, pointing various guns at James, who had moved. He was leaning on the wall, his hands clasped tightly around his head, his chest heaving heavily. Even though his hair covered his face, Dolores could immediately tell he was in terrible pain.

"He lashed out at Frank, he was screaming before, so he came to check." Only now did Dolores notice the unconscious guard with blood on his face lying by the door. Her mind raced with panic, but her voice was surprisingly steady when she spoke.

"Get out. Now. Move Frank to the clinic, they'll help him there. Now MOVE!" She kept her voice to a whisper, angrily staring at the swat that had shouted in panic. He drew breath to argue, but her expression made clear that she would not be argued. Quickly she shooed the swats out of the room, then she took off her scarf and tiptoed back to James who had sunk to the floor, still clasping his head.

"James. It's me, Dolores. I'm going to help you ease the pain, but I will touch you for that, so don't be startled. It's going to be alright." Carefully she took him by the shoulders and pulled him gently to the ground. She pried his hands off his head, digging her fingers into the firm muscle to relax it, praying his metal arm would mimic his right one. Quickly she wrapped the scarf around his eyes, blocking the lights that would not go out until 20:00. Then she started circling her fingers at the back of his neck, working to relax the muscle. Despite not moving, his hands were clenched into tight fists, and the heaving of his chest showed in how much pain he was in.

"I'm going to talk to you quietly so you have something to concentrate on. I'm going to be watching you metal arm, your left one. If you want me to stop, just move your hand, you don't have to speak." She moved her fingers from his neck to his scalp and gently massaged the skin, concentrating on the area around the temple, careful not to have her fingers tangled up in his hair.

"You probably don't give a shit, but I don't know what else to talk about, so I'm going to tell you about my sister, Nessy. She's younger than me, five years, and she's the most adorable creature to ever walk this planet, I swear. She loves you, actually. Not you-you, obviously, she doesn't know you, or I'm sure you'd remember her. She's quiet, but hard to forget. Mom always used to say all the words she never uses, end up in my daily supply. I'm quite the motormouth. We don't really have that much in common actually. Anyways, she loves Captain America, she is a bit of a history freak, so she already loved the pair of you before Steve was thawed or the Winter Soldier appeared. She could tell you all the members of the Howling Commandos, with their hometown, date of birth, when they enlisted and everything noteworthy to ever happen in their lives, before and after the war. But geez, she loves Steve. She'll go rambling on and on about how adorable he is, and his ideals, and how strong he was, and all that stuff. And you too, I think if she'd actually met you she couldn't have gotten out a word, but she could talk about you for hours. I guess it's kind of weird, but you were somewhat of an idol to her. I swear she has every book on you ever written and knows it by heart."

Dolores kept talking until her voice was sore, and even beyond that. After what seemed like an eternity, James relaxed his hands and his breathing evened out. Her hands were sore and so was her throat, but she kept talking quietly and massaging his neck muscles and scalp until his eyes stopped fluttering and his breathing had evened out so that it was slow and steady. He was asleep. She quickly snatched her phone to check the time. It was 23:46. James had been bearing that pain for over four hours. Another glance at her phone revealed five missed calls from an unknown number. She kept one of her hands gently working on James' neck muscles which were slowly starting to loose the tension from the pain and called the number. The call was immediately answered.

"Hello, Doctor Mahr?"

"Steve?! I had my phone on silent, sorry I didn't answer." She still kept her voice down, not wanting to wake James, not now that he got some much-needed sleep.

"What's going on in there?! Is everything okay? Why are you whispering, are you fine? Is anyone hurt." She silently smiled at his concern.

"One of the swats, but he's going to be fine. J... Bucky had a migraine attack, he thrashed out at the swat that came to check. I managed to calm it down, he's sleeping now." For a while there was nothing and Dolores furrowed her brow.

"Steve, are you still there?"

"Ahm, yeah sure. Sorry. I was just a bit stunned. Bucky hasn't slept at all since Romania. He always said he doesn't need it, but I think it's the nightmares keeping him up. He's afraid of what he will see if he closes his eyes."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah, he... I... I'm not sure whether I should be the one telling you this." Dolores nodded.

"I understand. I want to stay here, for now, make sure he's fine, especially when he needs the sleep so desperately. Also, the door is really loud, and I'm afraid I'd wake him up. The books say his hearing is enhanced, so I gotta keep it quiet. How about we postpone our chat. I'll ask Bucky whether he's fine with me talking to you, and I'll call you tomorrow."

"Sure. I... Just, thank you for doing this."

"It's my job, which I get especially well paid for. I think it's worth the effort. Now get some sleep, I'll call you." With that, she hung up the phone and returned her concentration to the sleeping man below her. A thought crossed her mind and she smiled.

Technically speaking, James hadn't given her the cue to stop, she was still allowed to touch him. She knew that that would be impossible outside of this situation, but for now, it would work. She gently shuffled around and started working on the muscles of his right arm. Like she had suspected, they were strained and clenched, so she gently set about relaxing them. She might not be able to keep the nightmares away, help his mind, but she could help his body.

Following her anatomical knowledge, she loosened every tense muscle along his arms and legs, sides, and shoulders. By the time she was done, she was afraid to even check her phone for the time and just leaned against the wall. She knew her voice would be fine by tomorrow, but her arms would probably hurt like hell. Worth it. She settled herself against the wall and readied herself for another night without sleep. She watched James breathe gently and smiled to herself.


	4. Day 2, 6:47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dolores gets to know James better and James lets his guard down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, holidays started and I hope I get some more time to write now so that there will be chapters more frequently.

Bucky didn't so much awake as he regained consciousness. Several times he drifted in and out of sleep, and when his eyes finally were able to fixate on the dead lights above him, it took several more minutes until his mind caught up with his body.

Immediately the training Hydra had installed kicked in. He didn't move while his mind scrambled to regain as much information as it could. But instead of numbness or dread, he felt surprised. For one, he was lying on the floor, and could not remember how he had gotten there. That was the next thing. He remembered the day before, the doctor, him chasing her off. Then it became somewhat fuzzy. All he could remember was pain. But then, how could he not remember? He doubted he had passed out, not from the pain at least.

Confused he sat up. His body responded smoothly, like a well-oiled machine. Confused he scanned his limbs. They felt better than they had yesterday, obeyed his will in an instance, without complaint. What had happened that his body would feel different?  
Only now did he notice the figure that rested scrambled together at the wall he had slept next to. The doctor. Panic surged through him. He knew that pose. Lifeless.  
With a swiftness inhuman he shifted so that he was facing her. Afraid to touch her lifeless form he scanned her, looking for the injuries he had inflicted, trying to decipher how he had killed her. He found none. He inspected her more closely and found her chest moving. She was alive! Relief flooded him, and he brushed his hair out of his face to hide it from the swats and the cameras.

Bucky wondered why she was in here. The first reaction that came to him was hostility, but for some reason, he felt like she was no threat anymore, at least not now. He couldn't remember how she had gotten here, which worried him, but she was no enemy.  
Her head rested on her arms which held her knees together. He brushed away the copper curls that shielded her face from his view and looked at her. He had tried not to look at her before, trying to seem as inhuman as possible, shielding himself from whatever she and her words might do to him, but now that she was helpless, vulnerable, he dared look at her. The first thing he noticed were the dark circles under her eyes. She was clearly not used to lack of sleep like he was, the effects showing immediately. He noted her exhausted expression. He knew it well, it was one he had learned to hide. Hydra did not care for exhausted soldiers. But they had no need for them either. He wondered how long she had stayed awake.

Well, it was no use if she slept there. Apparently, the swats did not care if she was in here, or they would have had plenty of time to tranquilize him and remove her. He shifted fluently to a stand, still amazed at how easily the movements came to him. Not that it had been hard before, but there seemed to have been a resistance he was only aware of now that it was gone. But he would worry about that later, maybe the doctor could even help him. For now, he tried to pry her arms from her knees as gently as possible. As her posture came apart, he picked her up and placed her on the bed. He wondered whether to put the covers over her, but let it be. The cell was warm.  
He turned to find a position that would allow for comfortable sitting without staring at her. He chose the table and crossed his legs on top of it, leaning against the wall. He fixed his gaze on the green panel of the metal door that locked him in, staring at the overlapping thumbprints from across the room.

***

Dolores awoke from being cold. She wasn't freezing or shivering, but just not comfortable enough to sleep. She wasn't really surprised when she found herself in James' bed, she hadn't really believed that she could make it through the night awake. She was however intrigued by the peaceful look on his face. He was facing the door, sitting crosslegged on the table where she had sat yesterday. His face was relaxed and this was probably the most relaxed she had ever seen him. She was glad he found a way to relax himself like that and she almost didn't want to alert him of her waking, just to not disturb him, but she had invaded his privacy for long enough. She let out a quiet yawn, not wanting to startle him with loud noises. His eyes flew open and his body tensed just the slightest bit. Dolores pushed herself to a sitting position and got up.

"I am very sorry for stealing your bed. If you want, we can drop our morning session, or move it a few hours. Though there are some things I want to talk about with you." James didn't react, not that she had expected him to, but he answered as she turned to leave.

"It's okay, you don't have to move it." Dolores turned and nodded, a smile on her lips before she pressed her thumb to the pad to open the door.

"I'll just head home quickly, change and get some stuff. I'll make breakfast when I'm back." ...  
Dolores sighed at the familiarity of her apartment, but didn't allow herself to dwell on it. She'd have to get stuff together for breakfast and there were also some other things she wanted to bring. James might have tried to give her as little as possible, but she had learned at least one thing. He didn't like being watched. It made him uncomfortable, knowing eyes on him. Which made complete sense, considering the conditions Hydra must have kept him. The Winter Soldier had been a tool, reactions were not required or wanted. It made sense that he was more likely to respond when she wasn't staring at him. So she packed some things to busy herself with. Her watercolors, brushes and some watercolor paper, obviously, but also the travel catalog she had been brooding over, and the book Steve had signed, some wrapping paper and some other things. She also took a few extra pens, pencils, erasers and paper for good measure.

Dolores quickly showered and braided her wet hair into a bun, hoping it would tame it at least somewhat. She changed into a new jeans and shirt before throwing her jacket back on and grabbing the box she had filled with her shit to leave. Dropping by a supermarket to buy the stuff for breakfast, she made her way back to the compound. Her hand filled with groceries on the way to her car it was difficult to handle her phone, but she managed to call Ebert.

"Hello, Dolores. How nice to hear from you! How are you?"

"Fine, thanks. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm calling because I need a shelf in James' room. Can you arrange that?"

"Sure. Is an hour okay? We'll just take one from the cellar."

"Thanks a lot! Look, I'm really sorry, but I have to go. I have all hands full right now."

"No problem. I'll be expecting your first report on the patient by the end of the week, okay?"

"Okay, good. Bye!" She hung up and threw the groceries into the box on the back seat. She sat down on the drivers seat and started up the music on her phone before starting the car. Familiar songs filled the car as her thoughts drifted off, back to the compound. She had noticed the shift in atmosphere when she had left James this morning compared to last night. She knew not to hope for too much, as it might have been nothing more of a momentary sentiment on his part. It did not mean that he was about to start working with her, or that he would not be hostile when she returned, but it was definitely noteworthy. Maybe seeing her so vulnerable had caused him to lower his defenses. She was just another doctor, a profession he had no good experiences with, and the video of his "escape" from the SHIELD glass box made obvious why he would fear the power of words. If she looked at it that way, she was everything he had learned to fear combined. But sleeping, she was no more a threat than anyone else. She made a mental note to jot her thoughts down in his file after the session, and to avoid wearing white or black to avoid him associating her with doctors or Hydra as she pulled into the parking lot of the clinic.

She tried to somewhat repair her brittle relationship with the door guard with a smile as she handed over her keys and showed her ID, but he didn't react. Rather than dwell on it, her mind moved on quickly and she busied herself with making breakfast. Not trusting her cooking skills when unguided by a recipe, she stuck with the things she had survived off during her time studying. There wasn't much one could do wrong when frying bacon, eggs and pancakes. She made coffee as well and for the first time in her life was glad for the experience she had gathered working as a waitress to pay off her student loans while studying. With a sceptical look the head of the swats offered his thumb to open the door and Dolores smiled a thanks at him while balancing her box and the tablet with breakfast towards the table.

James had moved back to his original position on the bed from which he watched her with amused interest. Only when Dolores turned to him did she notice that his move might not have been quite voluntary. His hands rested on his crossed legs, completely encased in metal. When he followed her eyes, the amusement vanished from his look. She noted that he was however not mad about the cuffs they seemed to have put him in while installing the shelf that now stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"You know, it really does surprise me that they still see you as such a threat. It's really amazing how nobody gets the point of all of this." She paused a moment to see whether he would answer. When he did not, she kept talking, simply thinking out loud to fill the silence.

"Well, we should eat while it's still hot." She moved towards the bed and James' whole body tensed, moving from relaxed to defensive.

"They have that thumbpad, I guess I can open them. Would it be okay if I did that?" She searched his eyes to see whether he would understand the implications of the question. There were two meters between them, if she wanted to open the cuffs, she would have to get closer. Not answering, he held his hands out to her, ensuring the distance between them to stay as great as possible. Dolores took the hint and steadied his hands by holding the metal of the cuffs rather than his arms, even though that wasn't really necessary, his posture was solid ice. The pad scanned her and with an audible click, the cuffs opened.

Immediately Dolores increased the distance between them, sensing his unease. She poured herself some coffee and grabbed her plate and a fork to go inspect the shelf, making sure to fully turn her back on the table with his plate. Like many times before in her life, she wondered whether other people really couldn't see the signs of nonverbal communication, couldn't read them or simply chose to ignore them.

Despite his silence, James was an open book. Maybe the Winter Soldier was different, but James was easy to read. Sure, about as easy as reading encrypted Russian would have been, but she got more than enough from him. For example how much he resorted to the training that made him a soldier. He would move as little a possible around her, because not seeing how he moved allowed her no estimate of the extent of his ability. So she enabled him to move to get his food without her watching by turning her back and pretending to be interested in the shelf.

"Who put this here? Rhetorical question, I bade the director to put it there, I need a place to put all that shit," she pointed at the box with her fork. She had no idea where James was at the moment, as she was pretending to try to see whether the shelf was attached to the floor. It wasn't. James moved without a sound, another way to hide his skill from her. She had no idea how fast he could move, whether he was back on the bed or still grabbing his fork and knife. Not showing how impressed she was by his skill and subconscious training, she kept rambling.  
  
"I mean, in the middle of the bloody room, really? Have any of these people ever decorated a house? Or like, ever been in one? The only furniture not bound to a wall is shit to sit on." While continuing her ramble, she started kicking the shelf at the bottom so that it moved over to the nearest wall, the one with the horrible mirror. Sure, only obstructed half of it, but that was the half directly opposed to the bed, so while not getting rid of the problem, it at least lessened it.

Dolores somehow managed to eat her pancakes without her knife, while continuing to curse around the poor quality of the shelf. When she finally turned back to James, he apparently hadn't moved, the barely touched plate on the table the only proof that he ever had. She pretended to take no notice and took the cup she had filled earlier.

"Coffee? It might be a bit strong, I don't know how strong you'd like it." Again he didn't respond, so she placed the cup back on the table, near the edge closest to him and filled the other cup. She turned back to the shelf, again having her back to him and shoved the box over to the shelf with her feet.

"I personally like mine stronger since I pretty much run on the stuff ever since my studying years." She crouched down and picked the first item from the box. The pencil case.

"Okay. I want to talk about yesterday. You don't need to answer if you don't want to. The cameras have no sound anymore, I asked them to shut it off, so the swats won't listen," she added. She placed the pencil case on the right side of the second highest level, mentally designating the middle level of the five as her own, all the other ones as theirs. She would have been a lot faster if she had put her cup down, but that was the whole point of the exercise. She picked up the scribbling pad next.

"Have you ever had that before?" She placed the pad next to the pencil case.

"No." Relief flooded her as he answered. His voice was quiet and steady, showing no emotion.

"Okay. Did it start slowly, or all of a sudden?"

"Slowly." Dolores wanted to sigh at the brevity of his answers, but she was glad he was talking at all. It would nevertheless be a very tiresome conversation.

"Are you in any pain now?" She picked up the small Bluetooth box she had brought along.

"No."

"Okay. In that case, I'd say we wait, for now, see if anything changes. Maybe it was just the stress getting to you." She didn't want to scare him with the prospects of even more doctors poking around at his skull. The box went on the third level, also right. The shelf was too big for the stuff she needed it for. Now, that all the questions about his physical wellbeing were over she got up and turned back to him. She had to suppress a surprised smile at seeing the coffee cup in his hands and locked her gaze onto his.

"Before we continue, I wanted to clear something up. I know that due to the events yesterday, I got closer to you that I know you are comfortable with. I just wanted to make sure you know that that was a one-time occurrence due to the circumstances." She bent down to pick up the two metal boxes with her watercolors at once and turned to put them on her shelf. Her movements stalled for a moment when James spoke.

"I don't care." Dolores tried to put her excitement at his sudden engagement aside and tried to concentrate on the placing of the cases and on her answer.

"You do. I mean, I have no doubt you could break my neck just like that, even with your right arm, but that's not what I meant. You're definitely not afraid, but it just as definitely makes you uncomfortable. No need to lie, it makes sense after all. The closer I am, the less time you have to react." She turned back to get the first book out of the box, catching the alarm in his look from the corners of her eyes.

"I mean, I won't attack you, I like both my job and my life too much for that, and I couldn't do any damage anyway, as you can see," she gestured at her short, not too fit figure.

"But you're a soldier, you've been at war almost your whole life, so of course you'd think like one. Especially with the extreme levels of stress and terror, Hydra put you under. Thinking like a soldier has kept you alive 'till now, so why change that." The book went onto the third shelf on the left side. She picked up the next two and took a sip of coffee before rising to place them on their spot. It wasn't strong enough.

"How can you know how I think? I haven't told you anything about me." Dolores pushed the books next to their kinsman and bent to get the last one. It was the one Steve had signed. It went to the top level. His voice was tinged with alarm.

"It's what I get paid for. And you're telling me a lot. No need to panic, there's nothing you can do about it. I tend to consider myself a little gifted with empathy, it makes it easier for me to read my patients, whether they want that or not. Of course, it's up to them how we work with what I learn."

"What do you know about me?" Dolores halted for a second, then she had the wrapping paper follow the last book. It had cupcakes on it. His voice was cold and hard with fear, despite his best efforts to hide it.

"James, you don't need to worry, okay? I'm not here to hurt you. I know you find it hard to believe that, but I actually am here to help you."

"How do you know what I believe?" His voice was hostile, and Dolores quickened her pace to get the rest of the things sorted in the shelf. The way this was going, he would want her to leave pretty soon.

"I don't know. I'm not a witch. But I'm good at guessing from the way you talk and move." Another quick glance showed her the confusion he tried to hide.

"For example, I can tell you still think like a soldier by the way you move, or rather, don't. Watching you move would give your enemy the chance to study you and estimate your abilities. By keeping still you eliminate that possibility. Also, you always sit in the same spot unless hindered, in the same position, but you never really relax. Therefore it's definitely not what you define a comfortable, but if you'd shift to sitting, say at the table, you'd show a preference, allowing an enemy further deductions." The box was empty and she turned to find him glaring holes into her skull.

"Why are you doing this?" Dolores sighed and took her cup with both hands. She didn't drink from it, not wanting to make him feel like his obvious threat had gone unnoticed, but she had to hold on to the cup to keep her hands from shaking as her heart raced at the sight of the soldier on the bed. For the first time, it really came to her mind how easily he might kill her and how dangerous he truly could be. She shook those thoughts out of her head.

"I want to help you. I want you to be able to sleep without nightmares and talk to people without inspecting them for weapons first. I want you to be able to live without having to be paranoid all the time, without hating yourself and with as little suffering as possible." She looked at him and forced herself to keep his icy gaze. Not shit they called him the Winter Soldier.

"I really want to help you. You think I'm one of them, those who built this cage as just another fancy prison for you to rot your life away, but I'm not. I want you to live. And if I can't get you out of here, I'll do my bloody best to make it bearable. But you're not giving me much to work with, and thanks to Mr. Stark, I have all the time in the world to think about every second of our meetings for the whole damn day. Like I said before: I know I got too close to you, and I'm sorry. But there's not much I can do about it."  
The aggression had melted from his eyes and his posture and he looked at her thoughtfully. Dolores almost breathed a sigh of relief as the tension in the air somewhat lessened. She inspected him closer. He looked confused and it seemed like his mind was too busy to bother hiding it.

"Stark?"

"Yes, Tony Stark. He's a friend of sorts of Steve and he arranged that I only work with you, no other patients. Pays quite nicely." Suddenly the realization hit her. She understood the confusion. He had known Howard Stark. The name must have reminded him.

"You met his father before Hydra got you. He was part of the Team that made Steve a super soldier. He also made weapons for the Howling Commandos once they had been created." Dolores turned back to the shelf and got out the book Steve had signed.

"May I sit beside you? There are some pictures in the book." She observed his face, but he didn't react. But there was no hostility, no aggression anymore either, so she sat down on the other side of the bed and put the book between them, flipping thought pages upside down so he could see the pictures. She flipped through the foreword and the introduction until she came to the first picture. Steve at his second enlistment. She was always amazed at the change that had undergone his body, and today was no different. James too leaned forward and squinted his eyes at the frail Steve. Suddenly there was recognition in his eyes and his look wandered off while he seemed to remember something.

"Steve was sick a lot. I helped him when he came into trouble," he murmured. Dolores smiled and nodded.

"He was a bit too idealistic for his size and you saved him about every second day." She flipped through more pages until she came to the chapter describing Steve's life after Bucky had left. There was a picture of James all dressed up in his uniform, saluting at the camera.

"And look, there you are. You were drafted and shipped to England as a Sargent after your training." James stared at the picture and again she could tell he remembered something. He looked at the uniform with distrust, as if it was the picture of a wild beast that might leap at him from the pages. Quickly Dolores continued to the next part, which described Steve's experiment. There was the picture of Howard Stark she had been looking for. He had been a handsome man and Dolores recognized his son's traits in him.

"There, that's Howard Stark. He was a brilliant engineer if you can call it that. In that aspect, his son's just like him." James nodded.

"I remember." His voice was soft and rawer than usual with emotion. Dolores smiled at him and when he looked up at her, his eyes were friendly and tinged with gratitude.

"Very good. All the stuff on the shelf is going to stay in here, you're free to use it. I thought you'd need something to busy yourself with while I work on files and order boring stuff. I'd just ask you not to use the watercolors in the silver case. Nessy gave them to me, so they're somewhat special. But feel free to use the other stuff. Especially the books, they're all about you and Steve, so you can read up a bit on your lives." James nodded, his eyes fixed on the five book on the shelves. Trying to estimate his state of emotions by the far off look on his face she started playing with the bracelet on her left wrist.  
  
"I think we will postpone talking about last night until tonight. Would you mind if I stayed here to work here? I could use some company." Immediately his eyes shot up to meet hers, trying to see what she meant with that. When he just saw her open questioning face, he turned his attention back to the book and shrugged his shoulders.

"Thanks. I hate being alone in a room, I can't concentrate." She got up and took out the laptop from her backpack which she had dropped beside the table. She opened James' file and started typing up her thoughts from earlier, as well as the observations from this morning. She could feel his mistrustful stare on her, but when, after twenty minutes she was still typing and hadn't tried any assassination attempts, he relaxed somewhat and turned his attention to the book. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of typing and the occasional rustle of paper when James turned a page.

"What else can you guess about me?" His voice was just barely above a whisper and Dolores sensed the mental debate that had gone into asking her the question. She looked up from her work and tried to summarize what she had learned till now.

"That Hydra had you silent. They wanted your head empty, but it wasn't. You managed to trick them, keeping silent, not showing anything, but it would only ever work for so long. Then they punished you, badly. They would sometimes give you bad food, making you sick. They always kept you underground so you wouldn't know where the base is. You had a small room with only a bed, it was monitored. Doctors took care of the punishing and all the other things they did to you, and you were not the first they tried to make into the Winter Soldier, only the first to survive. Also, you blame yourself for what you did under their control."  
James stared at her, his expression half amazement, half disbelief.

"How can you know all that?" Dolores smiled, a little embarrassed at the terrified awe in his voice.

"I pay attention and guess, I'm good at that." "But how can you guess where I was kept?"

"I watched the video feed of your arrival, you were blindfolded so you wouldn't know the layout or location of the compound. But you haven't asked where you are since, even though I'm clearly not in the position to keep that information from you. To me, that means you're used to the situation. You're not panicking about your location, even though that's usually the first thing someone asks if they don't know. You've been kept somewhere without windows, with no way to tell where you are. That's easiest to achieve when underground." James nodded.

"But how can you know what my cell was like?"

"You sit on the bed all the time. You do that to not give your enemies any clue about your preferences, therefore the bed must have been the most obvious sitting opportunity where you were kept. So no chair, no table. And when they saw no reason to give you a table or chair, why would they bother with a big room. That, plus you don't pace. The more nervous you are, the stiller you become. So I assumed you had no room to pace. Again, small cell."

"And how can you tell I am the first Winter Soldier?" Genuine curiosity weaved through his voice and Dolores tried not to let show how thrilled she was, hearing it.

"It's a guess. You are afraid of doctors. You hide it well, but you tense up whenever I enter the room. You were more relaxed when the swats brought you in than you are now. You have to consciously know by now that I'm no threat, but that doesn't change your reaction. So your subconscious has to have been trained to fear doctors. Therefore: long-term trauma. And I doubt Hydra would have been as careless as they seem to have been with you with their first experiments. No, my guess is that you were just another trial, you just happened to work." James looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, his thoughts hidden behind his dark eyes.

"Are you sure you are not some kind of agent?" Dolores laughed and looked back to her laptop screen to flee is inspecting gaze. For the first time, it was she who felt like she was being robbed of all her secrets.

"I took some self-defense course when I started studying. And yeah, you could consider Nessy an extensive apprenticeship on handling and reading difficult people. No offence," she added with a quick glance at James to check his reaction. She had expected him to retreat, but the hint of a sad smile passed over his face like the swift smell of dying roses in a gust of wind.

Silence enveloped them after that, but it was a comfortable silence. At some point, James got up and walked to the shelf to exchange one book for another. Dolores sensed his unease at the uncharacteristic action and made sure to keep her eyes glued to her screen. She kept working like that, the silence in the room spurring her onwards. Despite the lack of interaction, she was content here. Usually, she couldn't stand being alone. It made her anxious and depressed, knowing the apartment she was in, or the office she was working in was empty, that she was all alone. Even James' silence was more comfortable than that.


	5. Day 2, 10:09

Eventually, Dolores checked her phone. 10:09. She saved the document she had been working on in the secure archive that had been installed on her Laptop for James only and closed the device. At the sudden ceasing of the rapid fire of the keys, James looked up.

"I'll be outside for like, half an hour if that's okay with you. I have to make a call." James just nodded slightly and returned to the book he had in his lap. Dolores just left the laptop where it was and pressed her thumb on the pad on the door.

She quickly passed through the hall and by the guard, stepping outside into the morning summer sun that had just managed to climb the branches of the trees surrounding the compound. She closed her eyes and allowed herself to breathe the clean cool air. Immediately she felt a pang of guilt, that she was able to enjoy the summer morning and James was not. She distracted herself by pulling out her phone and calling the number Steve had called her from last night. As was her habit, she already started moving as the call was still ringing, starting to pace along the wall of the facility. Steve apparently wasn't finding his phone as she was on the other side of the compound, staring at the wall she knew James was behind when he picked up.

"Dr. Mahr, nice to hear from you." Dolores smiled and then frowned as her gaze still met the wall.

"Okay, this is getting awkward. I call you Steve, then I'm Dolores." "Dolores, sure. How is he?"

"Better. The pain is gone, and it hasn't changed since, so I'm hoping it might just be a one-time thing due to stress. It's a completely new situation and he's not used to handling people like me."

"People like you?" Even over the phone, Dolores could hear the mistrust and worry rising in his voice.

"People that treat him like a human, not like a weapon or criminal. I'm trying to keep it slow, but I'm still giving him small choices left and right. I'm as honest as I can be and tell him everything about how I'm trying to help him and what I'm planning to do. He isn't used to that, and the attack yesterday might be his mind trying to cope with that."

"Okay. Yeah, let's hope that." His voice was warm again and Dolores imagined him smiling into the phone.

"Have you been informed of the visiting hours?"

"Visiting hours?"

"That's a no. Saturdays between 12 and 14. As soon as I have a solid footing with Bucky and know how he's coping with that timeslot, I'll try to advocate for more time and days. 'Cause that's just bloody ridiculous. He's locked up in a titanium box, he desperately needs distraction and contact with other people than me. I brought some books and pencils in today so he can at least busy himself with some stuff, but that cell is terrible. Maybe I'll have us repaint them. Or you two, whatever, anything but that white, it's horrible." A guard came around the corner to check on her but she waved him off, returning her attention to the wall.  
"Sorry, I'm rambling again. You still there?"  
"Sure. I'd love to help with the painting thing. Any other things that happened?" She could hear him smiling.

"Well, I think he's warming up to me. I mean, he came closer to strangling me than ever, but after that, it went pretty well." Despite the remark being sarcastic, Steve's voice was worried.

"Strangling you? What happened?"

"Nothing, nothing, it's fine. He's just very uncomfortable around me. I tried to tell him that I don't mind that. I expect him to have at least some trust issues, considering his history, so I'm not planning him to trust me until at least next week. He immediately panicked because I could tell. He's been trying to give me as little as possible to go on, but I'm observant and very good at what I do, so he was panicking because I knew so much about him. But I made it clear that I wasn't planning on using that information against him and I think that relaxed him a little. I tried to make it clear how much of a disadvantage I have if he wanted to get information from me. I think that worked." Steve chuckled.

"Let me tell you that you're still impressively fast. Only the second day and him suspending his mistrust for you, a doctor, that's impressive."

"Yeah, we're moving faster than I thought. I expected to get the silent treatment for at least another day or two, but we actually had somewhat of a conversation today. But I think it will do him good to see you again."

"Same here though. I miss him."

"By the way, with you coming in tomorrow, I haven't asked him yet, you know, about whether I'm allowed to talk to you, I thought you might just do that yourself."

"Sure, I'll do that." Silence followed and Dolores stood to stare at the wall for some time lost in thought, empathising with James, until an idea struck her.

"Steve, you are on Stark's good side, right?"

"I'm not Pepper, but yeah, he listens to me sometimes."

"Good. Can you get us connected? I have a suggestion for the compound, and I think with his influence they might work."

"Sure. I'm entering Stark Tower now, I can give him my phone in a few minutes." "Perfect, thanks." Again, silence. It was again Dolores' mind that broke it.

"Steve, how much influence do you have with politicians and such?" Dolores could tell his confusion at the sudden change of topic when he answered.

"Not too much. I'm more of a people-person. More the soldiers than the officers."

"Okay, that would work too, maybe. I'm thinking, if I can manage to help James enough, we might be able to get him out of that Vault. Maybe with a tracker in his arm, or something. Even without politicians, if you can get the people to see him as Bucky instead of the Winter Soldier, the popular mood might swing around and we might get him out. Like Mandela in a way."

"Hell yeah! I'll see what I can do. But now I've got to hand you over, Tony wants me to leave his floor." Dolores heard some slight rustling and her heartbeat skyrocketed as Tony I'm-fucking- Iron-Man Stark's voice rang through her phone.

"This is Tony Stark, what do you want?" Ignoring his bored greeting, Dolores tried to keep her mouth under control.

"Hello Mr. Stark, this is Dr. Dolores Mahr, Barns' psychiatrist. I have been told you built the compound he's currently being held him, so I turn to you with a request for improvement."

"No need to be so formal honey, the way the Capsicle is looking at me, I'm afraid we'll be talking more often than I'd like. What's the problem?"

"The cell. I wanted to ask whether you could build a window to the outer wall." An annoyed sigh.

"Do you have any idea what kind of security risk that would be?" Dolores had prepared for that argument.

"You built mirrorglass into the cell, you had no problem with that. Just put some electricity on it so he can't touch it. You're smart, you'll think of something." After a stunned pause, Stark started laughing into the phone. The laugh grew quieter as he handed the phone back to Steve.

"I don't know what you asked, but it seems like he agreed."

"Yeah, seems like it." Happy with the future of the wall, she turned her back to it and started making her way towards the snack machine that she knew was somewhere on the parking lot. She wasn't hungry, but she craved something sweet right now so she sacrificed a few dollars to the chocolate gods withing the machine.

"Are you with him all the time?"

"No. I have two sessions, one at 8 and one at 18. They take however long take. I want him to have some time alone to think. He's used to not thinking when he's not alone, so I want to give him the opportunity."

"I'm very glad Bruce picked you out. I... there is no way to put into words how happy and thankful I am for the way you treat him." Dolores thought about how stupid she must look grinning at her phone.

"He's been a weapon long enough. It's time to care for his human mind." "Yeah."

"Look, I'm gonna go now. I want to prepare Bucky for the building, from what I caught from Stark, he's going to have people here probably even today. I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

"Sure, I'll be there at twelve."

Re-entering the compound, Dolores hung up and slipped her phone back into her pocket. She tore open the wrapping of the first chocolate bar as she entered the Vault. James looked up from the book and Dolores noticed with pleasant surprise that he had moved. Not much, but he had put up one leg to rest his metal arm on his knee and had stretched out the other leg. Surprise showed on his face at the sight of the chocolate bar.

"Sorry, I needed some sugar. Want the other one?" Without waiting for his response she tossed him the second bar and went back to the table. He caught the bar with a snap of his arm, the movement of a snake catching its prey, quick and threatening. A movement immediately belied by the open curiosity at the colorful plastic packaging of the bar.

"It's just chocolate, no extras. I hate the caramel stuff and I don't like peanuts, so it's boring plain chocolate." She packed away her laptop and turned to the shelf, getting out the case with the brushes and the rest of her painting supplies, as well as the box to put them on the table. When she turned back, James was now eyeing the uncovered bar of chocolate.

"You can eat it, it won't kill you. Not unless we've just uncovered the one thing I can do you can't." He bit the first square of the bar as if to prove her wrong. Dolores smiled.

"Good news, by the way. I just called Steve, he kind of laughed at me when I even asked whether he was coming. He'll be there at point twelve. I thought you might go to the yard together, it's more private than here." James nodded and Dolores didn't miss the smile that flashed across his face. He quickly dropped it to look up at her.

"Only Steve?" It wasn't so much a question as a request for confirmation. Dolores shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't really know actually. I only have contact with him, but sure, other people might be coming. They will have to go through my clearing though, and I won't let anyone in that you don't want to see," she quickly added when she saw the darkness of fear returning to his eyes.

"Then I want to see nobody else." He looked into her eyes as he spoke, fixing her gaze to his. Dolores smiled despite the chill that ran down her spine.

"Sure. Your call. Mind if I work some?" She held up the watercolor paper with a questioning look. James concentrated on breaking another square of his chocolate, but he answered.

"I don't mind." Dolores then started on setting herself up, quickly vanishing into the bathroom to fill up her two cups with water. She concentrated on taping down her paper to the table while she broke the silence as if she were talking about the weather.

"In other good news today, I think I managed to get you a window." James' head snapped up and she could feel his eyes boring themselves into the side of her skull. She quickly continued talking to calm her quickening heart.

"I got Steve to give me Stark on the phone, the guy who had this place here built," she waved at the room around them, pointing at the wall she was talking about.

"That wall there, there are trees on the outside. I hate rooms without windows and I hate having only artificial light. And if I can't get them to let you walk outside, I might at least enable you the view." She quickly glanced at his face, but her growing panic quickened her glance so that she caught nothing. Rather than risk being caught at another tried she laying out her brushes with extreme concentration.

"I know it's not a lot, I don't know why I'm so excited, it's rather demeaning to be so happy about getting so little as a window. I should be mad, hell, I am mad, that that's all I can do for you. And I'm going to try my very best to get you more than that, but that's all I can do, for now, I am very sorry for that."

"Don't be sorry," his murmur interrupted her ramble. Dolores froze at the softness of his voice and stopped rubbing the tape into the paper.

"I am very happy about a window. Then I can remember that I am free from Hydra." He caught her slightly confused gaze and his eyes skitted away.

"Hydra would never let me see trees or the sky. Only on missions." Dolores nodded and turned to the paper. She knew what she would paint.

"I am just so... I don't understand how someone could do something like that." She laughed quietly. "I have managed to understand what the Germans saw in Hitler and his parades, but I can't grasp how someone can hurt another human being, as cruelly and systematically as Hydra did. How they can bear to watch such pain, inflicted by them, and then, on top of it all, believe it's doing anyone any good!"

***

  
James watched to doctor in amazement as she started sorting little tubes of paint out of the metal box. He was confused. He had sunk deeper and deeper into himself as the anger in her voice became even more evident in her movements. Yet she clearly understood him. She could understand how he thought, even though she had just said that she could not. She said she understood the Nazis better than him. It left him confused, even more so at how bad this realization felt.

***

  
Dolores noticed the confusion in his expression and quickly caught up to the thoughts that clouded his eyes.

"You're nothing like them, James." He looked up and for the first time she saw beyond his icy outer shell and caught a glimpse at the confusion beyond.

"You're confused. You don't understand how can I understand you so well, so creepily well, even though I just said that I couldn't understand people who inflict and cherish extreme violence. That's because you are not one of those people."

"I have killed hundreds of people." Dolores put down her brush and turned to him.

"Yes, and you hate yourself for it. You are not a murderer, you don't relish cruelty. You didn't enlist as soon as the war started, you weren't eager to leave, you didn't pick Steve as a friend because it would give you an excuse to pick fights. You were drafted. You were terrified to leave your home. You and Steve were friends because he needed protection to stay the idealistic golden boy he was, and you saw that and found it worthy of protection. You are a good man taken advantage of." James shook his head and dropped it into his hands.

"That man is dead. Hydra killed him with my memories."

"To brainwash you. To control your movements, control your emotions." James' head snapped up and the fury in his eyes scared her shitless.

"You have no fucking idea what they did! I pulled the trigger, every damn fucking time, I remember, it was ME!" Dolores had leaped out of her chair when he started shouting. She retreated into a corner, pressing her back to the wall. James returned to his original position and stared at the floor, hurt and anger in his look.

"Go away." His voice had soothed, it was silent, but there was no calm in it now. Just the treat of a beast, muscles tensed, still before the lethal jump. Dolores closed her eyes and concentrated on doing what she had sworn herself never to do again.


	6. Day 2, 11:12

Dolores closed her eyes and breathed. She pictured the Winter Soldier in all his illimitable force and danger. It wasn't hard with the picture of James' ice cold stare still burnt into her brain.

"I am cold. Every part of me is cold. Cryofreeze does that, it leaves my muscles cold for days, no matter what I do. But at least I have something to do. My head is light and quiet, now that I can concentrate. I move quickly, I stick to the dark. Despite my boots and my gear, I am soundless. I know I won't get in through the first door, they told me. That, the address and the picture of a soon to be dead man. I climb easily onto the roof of the building two blocks down the house where the dead man lives. I don't worry about the glass shards piercing themselves into my belly through my armor. Even if any get through, pain does not matter.

I set up my rifle, slowly, some part of me wanting to prolong the process as long as I possibly can. It's nice, calming, it clears my empty mind. It feels familiar. I know why, I've done this more times than I can count due to the wipes, but that thought feels wrong. The thoughts bounce around in my head and I concentrate on the night around me. I check on the humidity, the wind, the light, the noise. I take in the night around me and turn it into numbers. Two up, one left to counter the wind and the distance. This is also familiar. The same familiarity as setting up the weapon.

I ignore it. It's not part of the mission, so not my problem. I look through the scope, taking in my target. My head is empty, but not at peace. The only thought that can fill my mind is the mission. But there is something tugging at my brainstem, something isn't right. But my body continues without me. My mind is taken apart by that strange feeling, while my eyes find the dead man through the window of his living room. My body continues the routine without me, I feel the pressure of my finger on the trigger at the socket of my arm. My finger moves. The dead man falls.

And my head is silently torn apart. What I did was wrong, but why, I don't know, it's all I know, my Mission, I only have my Mission, but why is it wrong, I know I made no mistake, I don't make mistakes, not on Missions like these, I made no mistake, and that is whats so wrong, I made no Mistake, that's what I did wrong, I was efficient, I should not have been, but I have to, I can not make Mistakes."

Dolores could feel her voice getting louder and more frantic, her lungs struggling for breath as she was torn apart by the Winter Soldiers mind. But she could not stop. The feelings of terror and confusion would not leave her and she could feel the glass piercing itself into her body. Until one unfitting sensation tore her out of hit. The feeling of cold metal smoothly running over her shoulder, grabbing it gently. Her eyes flew over and her legs gave away under her. James could not stop her fall, but he could soften it, as her head dropped against the wall. She stared at the reflection of the lights on his metal arm as she tried to regain her sense of personality and self, picking apart the Winter Soldiers emotions from her own.

When she was able to think clearly again, she looked up at the worry in his eyes. She could feel her heart melting into a smile, but she kept her face serious as she held his gaze.

"Don't tell me I don't know." The worry shifted to a mixture of mistrust and fear.

"I won't hurt you, other people have done so enough. I know. But I can only guess so much. I want to help you, James, I want to stop feeling this too. But I can't guess everything. So, I'll need you to help me." James looked at her for several seconds that seemed like eternity, then he stood and helped out his right hand to pull her up. Dolores smiled and thankfully let him pull her up. Her legs were still weak and she dropped thankfully onto the bed he had led her to. She tried to occupy as little as possible space as he settled down on the other side of the bed. A part of her wanted to get up, excuse herself, and be all professional again, but apart from being unable to, she felt like right now, this was fine. Her hair had opened and she could feel it rising in revolution against her attempts to tame it, but she didn't care.

"Are you in pain?" His voice was worried and Dolores couldn't help but smile.

"No, I'm fine. I just have to get my thoughts sorted. Thinking like the Winter Soldier is terrifying." "Sorry," he murmured.

"Don't be. I'm fine. But you need to help me a bit for you to be fine, okay?"

"I can try." Dolores twisted her chest and looked up at him, upside down.

"That's all I'm going to ask you." He smiled at her, just a tiny, half-smile that tugged at his mouth. "I'll be out of your bed in a second. As soon as my legs will carry me."

"How did you do that?" Dolores looked up at him again with a questioning look. "How can you think like me?" She tried reading the expression on his face, but what was difficult when the right way around, was impossible to do while upside down, so she let her gaze wander to the ceiling and tried to conjure up the feeling she got when entering someone's head.

"I don't know. I've been able to do it ever since I remember. It scared Nessy shitless when she figured out what was weird about me. People just have to talk long enough, enough so that I can figure out some part of their story, and then it spins itself. It just needs one trigger and I can fully be that aspect of someone. Of course, it's always just one glimpse, one facet. And humans have a milliard of facets. No emotion is ever truly the same, but I can get very close." A shudder took hold of her as she remembered just exactly how close she could get.

"Are you okay?" Dolores pushed herself to a sitting position and put up a smile to calm his worry.

"Don't worry, I'm okay. I just... I promised Nessy to never fully dive into another person like that again. I can't help getting glimpses anyway, there's nothing to be done about that, but I haven't done full dives since she made me promise not to." James looked at his hands.

"I'm sorry," he murmured and Dolores could tell that he really was.

"You don't have to be. James, it's my job to try to understand you. You don't have to be sorry that I'm a little irresponsible with the means I'm using."

"But I forced you to. I'm sorry I'm making it so difficult for you. I... it's just hard to..." He looked a little lost trying to find the right words and Dolores suppressed the impulse to take his hand. "I guess it's hard for me to believe someone would be so nice to me without any hind thought."

"Yeah, and that's okay. I didn't expect you to settle for another week. So you're doing really well actually." Dolores got up and shifted back over to the table. The bed was still James' space and she didn't want to intrude unnecessarily. She took up a pencil and quickly sketched out the outlines of the picture she had in mind, and then started on the background gradient. Working with the familiar brushes and colors had something soothing and she managed to shake off the last bit of cold the Winter Soldier had breathed into her bones. Silence settled over them and Dolores tried to formulate her next question to get them back on the course of treatment.  
"So. Going back to the script. How did you sleep last night?" After a bit of stunned silence, James answered.

"I don't know. Good, I guess."

"Steve told me you hadn't slept since the day he picked you up in Romania." She waited for the first layer of color to dry and scanned the picture, planning out how to go at it.

"Yeah. I can go without sleep pretty well."

"Is it easy for you to go to sleep?" She looked up. James was staring at the wall that would soon be glass.

"No. Not really. I don't really know. Hydra had me in cryofreeze when they didn't need me, and I haven't really slept a lot since." Dolores nodded and returned to the picture as the paint was dry. She tried to figure out how to continue the conversation, but her mind kept drifting off. She noticed his discomfort at the topic and her mind raced away to other things to discuss. She sighed inwardly at herself and decided to go with it.

"How many languages do you speak? Sorry for the change in topic, but you seem to be uncomfortable talking about that already, and I can't concentrate right now." Half a smile tweaked James' lips.

"English, Romanian, Russian, German, Spanish and French." Dolores let out an impressed whistle as she tried to control the colors on the paper.

"Wow. I speak fluent German and a bit of Spanish, not that impressive." "Warum denn deutsch?" Dolores glanced up and caught him watching her.

"Meine Oma war Schriftstellerin in Deutschland als die Nazis an die Macht kamen. Ma konnte daher natürlich auch deutsch und hat uns bilingual erzogen. Mein deutsch ist besser als Nessys, ich bin mehr der Languagefreak." She grinned at him. "Nessy loves history and all that science shit. I'm more for languages, literature, and anatomy."

"And painting." Dolores looked at the painting and smiled at the warm memory of Nessy telling her all about the second world war while watching her paint.

"Yeah. Just watercolor though. I haven't gotten a grip on the other stuff. The first time I tried watercolor Nessy was ten, and she was having a Captain America fangirling spree. She knew everything about him that had ever been published and so much stuff that wasn't. It was for her birthday, and I made her a portrait of the Captain. It was really bad, but she loved it." Dolores smiled at the memory of her sister's smile, so wide it seemed to shatter her face. Quickly she moved on.

"What do you think of German?" Dolores could feel James' confused eyes on her. He was trying to read her, trying to see why she changed the topic so quickly, but he only found concentration. He was about to answer when the opening of the door interrupted his thoughts.


	7. Day 2, 11:57

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve comes to visit

The head of the swats stood in the door. He stared at James until he was satisfied that he wouldn't jump and run, then he turned to Dolores.

"The Captain's outside. Got some people with him and a truck." Dolores smiled, ignoring the scruffy attitude. She knew he was pissed at one of his men being injured, but that was his own fault.

"That will be the men for the window. Thanks, Sergeant Gret. I can take them from here." Gret nodded and the door closed. Dolores turned to James who had tensed and was looking at her, half alert, half afraid. "I didn't know they would be here so quickly. I'll go out and see how they want to do this, then I'll be back for you. Is that okay with you?" James half nodded, half shrugged his shoulder. Dolores smiled at him reassuringly, then she pressed her thumb to the door and made her way outside of the compound.

"Steve!," Dolores gasped as she saw who Gret had meant with Captain. Steve grinned, apparently quite proud of his surprise.

"Hey. Tony didn't want anyone to mess up his precious steel cube and I thought I might help you handle Bucky while they're working." He gestured at the men behind him who had started unloading materials from their truck. "I was told you could sneak me in outside of visiting hours," he murmured as he leaned into her. Dolores laughed, then she furrowed her brows as she looked at the materials. Steve watched her shift of expressions confused as a huge grin broke out over her face.

"I have an idea. Get your shield and wait for me over there." She pointed at the trees. She knew the park inside out as she had spent many lonely lunchtimes in them. "Tell them they can start working as soon as I'm outside, the Sergeant will lend you his clearance," she added, gesturing at the men behind Steve. Still confused as to what she was planning, Steve just turned and went to inform the workers. Dolores spun around. The sergeant was waiting for her in the entrance hall.

"Sergeant Grat, I need you to lend the workers your clearance please, so that they can get in. I'll be taking care of Barnes. As soon as we're outside, you can let them in." The sergeant just nodded, not too happy she was giving him instructions, but complying nonetheless. Dolores headed back to the Vault and thumbed her was inside, where James was anxiously awaiting her.

"Okay. So the guys with the window are here. Buuuut, I have a tiny surprise for you. See it as a late welcoming gesture." Dolores tried to get the huge grin off her face as not to scare or confuse him, but it was impossible. "I won't tell you what, that would be boring. Do you trust me with that? Pretty big question to ask on your second day, I know, but I swear you're going to love it, and it's nothing you couldn't get out of. If you're in any way uncomfortable, you can ask me and I'll get you out immediately. Pleeease?!" He looked at her skeptically, trying to make sense of her words.

"Sorry, I'm rambling. I have to take you out of the cell. And if you trust me a little and swear on whatever is holy to you to behave and stick around, I get to show you something really really nice. Can you do that?" Still skeptical, James nodded slowly.

"I swear on all the memories I have left that I will behave. Not like I have anywhere else to go." His half smirk was sad but Dolores couldn't help herself but grin.

"Perfect. I promise you won't regret it. Though I will have to get you back into these," she held out the huge metal cuffs she had taken from him earlier. With the grace of a snake uncoiling for a lethal strike, James got up from the bed and held out his hands. His body was tense, but his movements smooth and betraying nothing of his anxiety. Dolores struggled a bit with the heavy cuffs, but soon she had his hands restrained and motioned him to follow her.

James kept his head down as they passed the Grat and the guard at the door. Dolores kept her hand on the cuffs symbolically and passed the workers. She nodded to them and quickly moved James out of the way as they started piling into the building. She could feel his ever growing anxiety as he followed her to the treeline. It was Steve who realised her plan first and his face lit up with a grin so huge she thought it might tear it apart. James, however, did not look up, not wanting to draw any attention as not to give rise to more chaos and confusion.

"Okay, you're going to be the babysitter until they are done." Steve grinned, even more. Dolores wondered how that was even anatomically possible.

"Sweet. We're going anywhere?" At the sound of Steve's voice, James' head shot up. He stared at his friend in disbelief, the whipped around to Dolores. She also had to grin.

"Sorry, I had to use the opportunity. I have to take some security with me, and I promised Steve I'd sneak him in outside of visiting hours sometime. I just hadn't planned that to happen so soon."

"But..." Dolores noted how adorably confused and happy James was at the same time.

"No buts just yet. We need to look like this is a plan. Steve, take Bucky and follow me." Steve grabbed James by the arm and followed her into the small forest that surrounded the facility. They walked for about five Minutes until they hit the small clearing Dolores had aimed at. She loved this place and it had offered her a lot of comfort with its soft grass and the dense treeline, leaving out the sky. The men behind her gaped for a few seconds while she settled down on the grass against the tree that was lying straight through the middle of the clearing.

"Dolores, what are we doing here?" Steve asked. James stood slightly behind him, not protected, but the backup. She smiled at the subconscious arrangement. Steve was the charmer, Bucky the threat to listen to him.

"James cannot stay in his cell. That is considered the only safe room to keep him alone, otherwise, we could work in my office. So if I need extra guards while they're working on his cell anyway, I might as well have you join us. I thought you'd both appreciate."

"No. I mean, why are we here?" He gestured at the clearing. James tried to underline his skeptical tone with a mistrusting gaze, but his eyes kept wandering off, to the grass, the trees, the sky. Dolores smiled and looked at James.

"A window is nothing compared to the real thing. It's a beautiful day. We're going to be inside enough. And here there are no cameras, no mikes, no swats, no walls. I figured I'd get you as much of that as I can. You can't rebuild a mind in a cell." Steve still wasn't convinced, it seemed to be too good to be true.

"No hooks? No buts? What's the subclause?" Dolores laughed and looked at them both.

"Well, I'll be here, listening to every word you say, learning from every twitch of your face. And it's only for a few hours until the window is installed. Then Grat won't have to stay in the compound anymore and will come looking for us. So enjoy it while you can. Oh, and you'll both have to back me up once he's found us, else I'll lose my job." Dolores just closed her eyes and let her head fall onto the trunk, enjoying the feeling of the sun on her face and the smell of the grass. She could hear Steve and James slowly joining her. James settled down beside her with a good distance between them, while Steve stretched out fully onto the grass.  
  
"Does she just do that with me, or is she always that nice?" Steve asked James. James laughed a quiet short little laugh but didn't answer. For a while, they were silent and just enjoying the sun.

"So, how is it?" Steve tried to ask the question nonchalantly, but America's golden boy wasn't a very good liar and Dolores could hear the burning curiosity. She could sense James looking at her so she steadied her breathing, pretending to be asleep. She knew she couldn't leave them alone, she had some little sense of the security protocol left, but she wanted to give them at least the resemblance of privacy. As soon as James seemed convinced that she was asleep, he answered.

***

"Not too bad, actually. The cell is nicer, I can move around and stuff. There's cameras everywhere and a huge mirrorglass with the swats behind it, but otherwise, it's nice. The bed is too soft though." Steve laughed and Dolores gave her everything to not smile.

"And how's the doctor? Bruce picked her out, he said she'd be the best for you."

"She's nice. She isn't so..." Bucky tried to find the right word to describe the woman next to him but just ended up chuckling as the image of her bursting into his cell the first day flashed across his mind. "On the first day she was there, she was shouting at the swats. I could hear it a bit through the mirrorglass. She came into the cell, furious. She was cursing and still swearing at the swats about the mirrorglass. She's got quite the temper as far as I can tell, but she's nice. Isn't so stuck up. I mean, every time she tried to start a conversation that an actual doctor might have, she gets off topic."

"Okay... But do you have the feeling it's helping or anything?"

"I guess. It's creepy how she can read people. I think she understands how I think better than I do. But... it's weird, but I don't actually mind that. I'm actually somehow glad that she can understand. I didn't think she would or could, but I somehow feel like she might actually have an idea about what to do."

"Like last night?"

"You know about that?"

"I was waiting outside, wanting to ask her how you are when the guard called her back in. She called me eventually, telling me you'd fallen asleep. How the hell did she even do that? With meds or did she actually knock you out cold?" Bucky laughed and tried to think back to last night.

"I don't really know. I just remember that, one moment, I'm just really glad she's gone and I'm alone again, next thing I know, my head feels like they're wiping it again, but ten times at once. I think I got up and someone tried to push me back to the bed."

"Yeah, the doc told me one of the swats got injured." Alarmed, Bucky opened his eyes. "Injured?!" Steve looked at him, somewhat worried.

"Yeah. She said something about one of the swats checking on you. You thrashed out. She said he'd be fine though." Not convinced of that, Bucky made a mental note to bring that up with the doctor once they were alone again.

"So what then?"

"I can't really remember. But I remember her doing something to my head that kind of lessened the pain. And she talked a lot, but really softly. It was nice. Something other than the pain to concentrate on. She told me about her sister, she really likes that girl. And next thing I know, I wake up on the floor, pain all gone, the doctor asleep sitting beside me." Steve chuckled and shot a glance at the sleeping doctor beside Bucky.

"She didn't lie when she said she'd stay a bit, that's sure." Bucky grinned. No, the doctor hadn't been lying. In fact, from all he could tell, she had told him the truth about everything so far. She hadn't lied or tried to keep information from him once. It was new, uncomfortably unfamiliar, but nice nonetheless. The Soldier in his mind told him it was all a trick. A new way Hydra found to lull him into letting down his guard, to get to him. But that was just one quiet voice against the whole rest of him starting to like the woman with the curly red hair.

"So, what is she having you do?" Bucky turned his attention back to Steve who was trying to hide his worry behind curiosity. The man on the grass was so unfamiliar, but Bucky somehow knew that his eyes were lying. He knew the man and he could trust him, if nobody else, then him.

"Nothing really. It's been all talk up to now. She said she'd try to do some other stuff to not have it be boring, but 'till now, it's only been talk."

"Like what?" Bucky shrugged.

"Just random things. First time she came in, she was just telling me how often she'd come and what I was allowed to do, stuff like that. And she was screaming at the swats a lot," he chuckled. "Then she was all doctor, asking how I sleep and eat." He frowned at the memory. "I wasn't very nice to her. I didn't want just some other whitecoat picking me apart again. But she asked whether I wanted her to leave, and when I said yes, she actually left. 'Till the guards got her back because of the whole headache thing. In the morning she left to get some stuff from home. So when she came back she had made, like... breakfast and had a box of stuff with her. They put a shelf in the cell while she was gone. When she came back she was saying sorry for how close she had gotten last night. That freaked me out, really, how she was able to tell how much I didn't like her being close. It was like she was reading my mind. But she explained to me how she did that, and it was still creepy."

"Creepy?" Steve shot him a questioning glance and Bucky tried to put into words the panic that had taken hold of him when he learned how she could read his thinking.

"She knew the size of my cell at Hydra and how it only had a bed from how I sat. I mean, I tried to give her as little as possible to go on, her being a doctor after all, but it was like she was directly looking into my head."

Steve relaxed back onto the grass and closed his eyes against the sun. Bucky imitated his example and soaked in the feeling of the sun against his skin. It had been so long since he had been able to enjoy the upcoming summer's warmth like that. He breathed in the air and tried to memorize the thousand different scents in it. He was incredibly thankful the doctor had taken him here. He probably wouldn't tell her, he still didn't trust her nearly enough to admit to her having such a control over him. He tried to catch every bird song, every ray of sun, every little breeze. It would have to be enough for a long time. Not that he'd deserve this.

That was another odd thing about the doctor. Despite her eerily good empathic skill, she didn't seem to grasp the monster he was. She didn't seem to see the blood on his hands, so much he drowned in it in his dreams. Somehow, she could see past the pile of corpses that buried him alive. Despite all he had done, all the pain he had caused, all the misery he had been the root of, she wanted to help him. For some reason, she wanted to lessen the punishment for his crimes.  
  
"She's weird though." Again Steve glanced up at him, but Bucky was just looking at the trees ahead of him, lost in thoughts while trying to remember the exact texture of the bark.

"What do you mean?"

"She... I killed so many while I was with Hydra. She told me how she simply couldn't understand people causing so much pain. Even with her weird mindreading thing she said, she could understand the Germans liking the Nazis more than those that caused a lot of pain and thought it was good. She was talking about the people that made me into this. But that's me too, right? I mean, I killed so many, I don't even know the number. I thought it was right. I caused a lot of pain too. And somehow, she doesn't see that. She's trying to help me!" Steve stared at the sky thoughtfully.

"I don't think she doesn't see that. I think she can see all of it. She has books on us and stuff. She probably knows the exact number. I guess she just knows that wasn't you. That the real James Buchanan Barns would never have even been able to do so."

"Even the Winter Soldier wasn't able to do so." Bucky's head shot around and his heart froze as the doctor spoke. Her voice was soft and pleasant, her eyes still closed at the sun. She didn't react to his sudden movement and the stunned silence. She didn't show whether she had been awake the whole time or had just caught the last snippet. Before he or Steve could ask, she continued.

"There are recordings and protocols of the Soldiers attacks on Steve you, Romanov, Wilson and the Hydra guy, and on the helecarriers Hydra tried to launch through SHIELD. Of course, the Soldiers targets are officially unknown, but it's easy to tell. When he attacked, Romanov and the Hydra traitor were the targets. The soldier never touched Wilson unless he was a threat, same with you. He only ever went after the Widow. And as soon as Romlow was there, the Soldier ceased attacking. The same on the carrier. The Soldier's mission was to prevent damage to the carriers and get rid of you, Steve. He only killed those men wanting to get into the planes to help destroy the carriers, and he only fought you and Sam because you were trying to mess up the programming. He never hurt anyone else. The Winter Soldier never did any more damage than he had to. Hydra's command over him might have been absolute at that point, but even then he did as little harm as he could." She opened her eyes and looked over at him, the same deep understanding in her eyes as she had had before.

"You think you're a bad person, that Hydra made you one, but every evidence speaks against that. For example, it's impossible to trace your route to Romania after you saved Steve's life. You went against the Soldier's programming with that, you were free from Hydra at that point. And at that point, you were Bucky Barnes again. There is not one burglary, not one report of injury or even murder, not one broken window that would allow anyone to trace your route. Because you didn't do any of that. You never hurt anyone, as soon as Hydra lost control over you. There are Hydra facilities in Romania. I'm sure you found them. You had an apartment there, you lived there, you had to know about them. But they still stand. You know why? Because James Buchanan Barnes is a good man, one of the very few very good men that find nothing in revenge. You were trying to escape your old life, build a new one, I've seen the photos of the apartment. You don't need to be converted back to your old self, you never lost that. All that's left to do is convince everyone else. Including yourself."

The doctor fell silent and turned her face back to the sun. Bucky couldn't find any words. Neither could Steve, so it seemed. They just sat in silence, trying to work through what the doctor had said. All of it was true, and completely reasonable once she had pointed it out. But Bucky still couldn't quite grasp the truth of her words.

"Oh, and 218." He looked back at her, but she was still talking to the sun, her eyes closed once more.  
  
"That's how many people the Soldier killed. 218. Seargent Barnes though saved several thousand lives. At least that's what historians estimate. Without the Howling Commandos, several thousand people would have been killed that now have grandchildren." She opened her eyes again and caught his gaze, holding it with her eyes of spring leaves.

"Be careful when judging yourself, James Buchanan Barns. You are many things, so many. Do not leave any of them out, do not forget any of them. They all make you a great man, albeit a broken one," she smiled. Then she dropped her head back onto the log. "What do you think about spaghetti for dinner? And now that Steve's here, he might as well join us."

Steve laughed out loud, and even Bucky had to grin despite the words of the doctor still bouncing around in his head.


	8. Day 2, 18:45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attack on the hospital.

Bucky could still feel the sun on his face as he laid back on the bed. He had turned, and instead of facing the room and the door like usual, he was now looking outside his new window. It wasn't just one of the tiny little holes in the wall like the one he knew from his cell at SHIELD, but the whole wall had been replaced with glass. Steve had explained to him that it was safe to touch and how there were two layers. There was a current running through the two layers that would fry him dead if the glass was broken, but Bucky didn't plan to. He was staring outside, watching the sun nestle itself between the trees, and he was strangely content. He was still trapped in a cell in which he was most likely to spend the rest of his life, but it wasn't so bad now. No, he wasn't planning to get out.

They had spent the rest of the afternoon on the clearing, just talking. It had been relaxing, listening to Steve and the doctor, Dolores. The name felt a little strange in his mind, and some unknown impulse shortened it to Dot. Yeah, that felt right. Dot. The name tasted familiar on his tongue, but he wasn't quite sure why.

Before he could try to hunt the memory connected to Dot, he heard the door open. Despite the comfort of the day, his instincts kicked in immediately. He sat up and his muscles tensed while his heartbeat spiked. His eyes caught the position of every object in the room, scanning for emergency weapons. The swat sergeant stepped into the cell. Bucky immediately knew that something was wrong. The way he held his weapon, his finger cradling the trigger, the angry determination in his eyes. But Bucky didn't panic. His heartbeat steadied, his breathing was calm and his senses alert. The familiarity of the situation was almost comforting, and Bucky felt fully in his element.

"You kill one of my men and get rewarded," the swat muttered under his breath. He didn't step out of the door, and Bucky slowly rose from the bed. Immediately the swat trained his gun on him. Years of Hydra took over and he gave over his mind to his body. The swat opened fire, which Bucky blocked with his metal arm. His head and neck were protected, but one of the bullets stuck somewhere in his abdomen. Bucky grunted in pain, but it didn't stop him. He brushed over it and swung his fist at the swat. Grat hadn't expected the soldier to be so resilient, the evidence from the cameras had him seem more like a lamb waiting for slaughter. He had never seen the Winter Soldier move, never had seen him fight. The man that had lounged on the bed a second ago now jumped at him with the swiftness of a tiger. The relaxed slumping had turned to deadly precision. Grat stumbled at the hit and Bucky swiftly spun, clasping the man's throat with his metal hands. He pressed until the swats lips were blue and his eyes closed.

The unconscious body of the swat sunk to the floor. Bucky swung around. He knew the other swats had watched him over the cameras, they would be swarming the cell within minutes. Where was the doctor? Completely giving in to his instincts, Bucky raced out of the door. He knew the way out to the door, he had remembered it despite the blindfold that they had put on him when dragging him in here. He had almost laughed at their futile attempts to control him. He took out two other swats, while he turned to find the doctor. She had talked about an office. He swung around and looked down the hall. To the left was the way out, but despite everything in him screaming at him to get out, he turned to the right and stalked away from his escape route.

Two meters down the hall there was a door. It was ugly green with a name tag, but Bucky barely noticed any of that. He kicked down the door, expecting to hear the doctors surprised squeal, but there was only the shuffling of boots behind him. With eerily fast movements he put the door back up. The swats wouldn't fall for it if they came looking for him, but they saw him as a cruel criminal on the run, and truly, he heard the boots slamming past the door, racing after him.

Bucky veered around. He found the doctor lying on the floor behind her desk. He could hear voices rising from the hall, so he quickly picked her up. The assassins instincts inside him cheered as he scanned the room. They really had had no clue who they had built this for. He took the doctors mantle and wrapped it around his right hand, locking the doctor into the embrace of his metal arm. He smashed the window that had been built into the wall for some completely irresponsible reason, took hold of the doctor's backpack and leaped out of the window. He didn't bother with the shards that pierced themselves into his skin. He took hold of the doctor and ran. He raced to the forest, past the clearing he had laughed with Steve and the doctor just hours earlier. Had he had time and a different mind, he might have found the absurdity of the situation, but he had no time and his mind was focused and narrowed on one thing only. Escape.

His running was hindered by the lifeless body over his shoulder, but he managed to loose the swats after two hours, which again had him question their qualification. He kept the tempo for another hour or so until the light of day had faded completely, then he slowed to a halt. He was still surrounded by dense forest, which would work well for hiding for the night. He was after all the most wanted assassin in the United States right now, so hiding seemed like a good idea to him. He looked around and picked a tree with wide opening branches. Climbing with a nonresponsive body was difficult, but he managed to find a safe position for the doctor and himself, tying her to the stem with her coat for good measure. It would be cold for the night, but it would have to do. Not like he would be sleeping anyway. The adrenalin slowly faded from his bloodstream, and his mind cooled down. His heartbeat returned back to normal.

The sergeant had attacked him. He had stopped the sergeant. His mind raced over the details, processing a million sensory inputs at once, but he couldn't put them into a logical framework. Why had the sergeant attacked? Bucky knew a soldier wouldn't take revenge for a lost man on a mission, that was irresponsible and against military code. So there had to be another reason, but what was it? The swats had seemed like well-trained men, there was no way they would let themselves to emotion like that. Even if they were a bad batch, they would never have been chosen for the job.

Also, why the hell had he taken the doctor? She would have been completely fine staying in the compound, why the bloody hell did he take her?! A feeling in his gut told him he had made the right decision, but he simply couldn't figure out why. The doctor was a civilian, she had told him herself she was absolutely useless in a fight. Sure, that might have been meant to calm his mistrust, but it still rang true. It had been a stupid decision and Bucky cursed himself for being so sentimental. Yes, she had been nice to him, but so had Zola and Pierce been.

He had wanted to stay in that cell for Steve's contract, hoping that at least one of them could rebuild their lives, but that plan had gone to shit. He had to vanish. Nobody would give him a third chance, not after believing he had so spectacularly blown his second one, there was nobody he could run to. He felt no remorse at the thought. Loneliness had always been his ally, he had always worked better alone. Teammates were hindrances or mule, nothing he really needed. He had to vanish. But to where? He had to get out of the country, the whole nation was probably looking for him by now, he couldn't stay. So to where?

The thoughts and questions bounced around his brain, chipping away at his skull. After what seemed like ages of racking his gray cells for an answer, Bucky decided to drop it for the night. Maybe the doctor could help him when she woke up. He leaned back against the tree and tried to fall back into his meditative state while holding on to the Glock 18 he had taken from one of the swats. Which was extremely hard considering the scorching pain in his abdomen and arms and the surging feeling of extasy as a gust of night wind gripped into his hair.

He was free. Shot, torn and weighed down by a wounded civilian, but free. It was all he could do to not have his heart burst out of his chest.


	9. Day 3, 11:34

Dolores awoke with a start but didn't show it. One of the many lessons her father had taught her. She had learned more from him than she liked, but for now, she saw it as a good thing. She opened her eyes slowly after figuring out that the environment she was in was definitely an unfamiliar one, so she might as well check it out. James sat opposed to her. Dolores sighed.

"Okay, why the fuck am I tied to a tree?! How the hell did we get here?!" Her voice showed none of the panic she could feel coursing through her veins, it was calm and tinged with mild annoyance. Dolores was proud of herself. She went on to further investigate her situation. She was approximately way to bloody far from the ground, tied to the trunk of the tree with her coat, presumably, so she wouldn't fall off. James sat a bit further down the branch in a fork that allowed him to lean on it comfortably and was watching her, had been probably the whole night. Dolores hoped she hadn't talked in her sleep again. She didn't need him to know of her dreams too.

"How are you?" His voice was soft, strangely comforting. Her eyes skitted over his body, taking in his posture. He was more relaxed now than he had ever been in and around the cell, and Dolores had to hide a grin. The Winter Soldier in his natural habitat.

"Tied to a tree, confused, and my neck hurts. What the fuck happened? Last I know I left your cell and went back to my office. Next thing I'm in a tree." She looked at him slightly accusatory, demanding an answer. Again he just smiled slightly and pushed himself off his branch.

"If you let me look at your neck, I will tell you what happened." Dolores sighed and let her head fall forward so he could inspect the back of her neck. Apart from being stiff from the night, a slight constant throbbing was accompanied by a sting which seemed to originate from just below her hairline. She wasn't ready to give up her hold on the trunk yet, so he'd have to deal with this. Willing herself to ignore the strangeness of the situation as he leaned into her, gently prying apart her hair to get a better view of the source of the pain. She was sitting tied to a tree with her top security patient checking out an unfamiliar pain in the back of her neck and couldn't for the life of her remember how she got here. She pushed any thoughts away and tried to concentrate on the pain. Maybe she could recognize it. She had a doctorate, after all, she was a surgeon. Maybe not Stephen Strange levels, but she was decent enough and had learned how to place pain.

So, how would you describe the pain you're experiencing?

Well, doctor, it's a constant throbbing, like a second heart pumping out pain. But there's also a sting to it, right in the middle.

Mhmm, aha, yes, well, I see. Sounds like an injection.

"Looks like a needle injected you something." Her thought and James' voice rung out at the same time. Dolores tried to play it off cool, but in reality, she was internally screaming in panic.

"Yes, I've reached the same conclusion. So, now that you got to play doctor, may I ask why the fucking hell I wake up tied to a tree with my top security patient for whom an especially secure cell was built inspecting an unknown, badly done injection in my neck?"

"I'll explain. But we need to get moving. Can you climb?" For now, Dolores decided not to make a fuss and pound on the answer, she just nodded half-heartedly and untied the arms of her jacket around her waist. James went first, dropping himself one branch down, then to the floor. His movements were fast and precise and Dolores couldn't help but notice the lethal elegance they had to them. She also noticed he was wearing her backpack and a sudden wave of relief washed over her when she remembered what she had packed yesterday. She shook her past self's hands in thankfulness before she threw her jacket down to begin her less than graceful decent.

When her feet were finally firmly planted to the ground, James immediately started to move. He strode through the dense forest and Dolores found it somewhat difficult to catch up. She had always stayed clear of sport, and her laziness was biting her in the ass now. But only after a few minutes she noticed his labored breathing. He was breathing loudly. Something was wrong. She grabbed his wrist and planted her feet firmly into the ground to spin him around. He did with a hint of annoyance on his features. His problem. She quickly scanned him for wounds. Well, very quickly. The two huge bloodstains on his shirt in the area of his abdomen and his lower arms wasn't hard to miss. She wondered how she had before. A small voice in the back of her head teased her with how she had been too caught up in mystery man's handsomeness, but she pushed the voice aside. She had other problems.

James had clearly noted her discovery but still tried to pull her onwards. She stood her ground. The mild annoyance turned to slight anger when he turned to her again. Dolores wanted to shrink back, but the doctor in her took over. Thank god, the growing fury in those cold eyes would have left her crying like a little girl.

"I can fix you up. You lie down and let me work, meanwhile you explain." He tried to shrug of her hand but her grip was firm, digging her nails into his flesh.

"It's fine. And we really need to move." She pointed at his abdomen.

"You won't get anywhere with that. It's easier to fix up now, when it's still fresh, than later when it's infected and you have blood poisoning." She returned his glare and just pointed at a tree that had relatively shallow roots so that he could lean against it comfortably and almost be lying down. Sterile as shit, but it would have to do until she could figure out where she was and what the hell she had gotten herself into. Still glaring, James complied. She traded him her jacket for the backpack so that he could use it to cushion his head. She kneeled down beside him and opened the frontmost compartment of her backpack to reveal the biggest first aid kit she could have gotten her hands on. James looked at her questioningly but Dolores just shrugged while carefully prying his shirt up to his chest.

"I like to be prepared. It's a habit that's only helped 'till now." The first aid kit was a constant in the bag, she never removed it and took it with her everywhere. She ripped open the package of a gauze and drenched it in alcohol before she started dabbing away the horrendous amounts of blood on his chest and abdomen. Soon she got lost in the muscles of his body, but like Nessy would have. Rectus abdominis, external abdominal oblique, rectus sheath. Soon all the blood was washed away and she was left with a clean shot wound on his side. She could feel his eyes on her.

"No need to stare like that. I didn't get you shot, not my fault I have to touch you. And stop fucking worrying, I am a doctor, I am bound by an oath not to harm you."

"That oath can be interpreted very differently," he muttered before he hissed as she started disinfecting the wound.

"Still. If I wanted you dead, I could have just let you bleed to death. You're lucky it's so close to the side or you wouldn't have made the night."

"I know." She shot him a glance before she took up a syringe with a local anesthetic. She saw his eyes widen at the instrument.

"This is some local anesthetic. The bullet is still inside, so I'll have to get it out. It's easier for both od us if you can't feel me fingering around inside of you." He shot her another skeptical glare but didn't protest as she injected the numbing agent into the areas around his wound. It would take a few minutes to take effect, so she prepared the tools she'd need, ripping open another gauze, and a bandage, as well as a pair of tongues and taking out two rolled gauzes which she left in their package.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to elaborate on our situation." James furrowed his brow but gave up on glaring at her for now.

"After you left yesterday, the Seargent came in. He said something about one of his men dying, then he started shooting. I knocked him out and ran for it. You were unconscious in your office, so I made a run for it. You didn't wake up, so I went up the tree so we wouldn't have to run through the night." Dolores nodded and started probing the flesh around the wound. Her mouth did it's thing while she fully concentrated on the wound in front of her. Feeling his nervous eyes on her, she continued talking, even though her full mind was on working the tongues.

"So why the tree? Couldn't we have stayed on the ground?" James looked at her in surprise and puzzlement.

"You're really calm about all of this... You sure you're not an agent of a sort?" Dolores moved the tongues carefully until she could feel the resistance of the foreign body.

"Would you prefer me panicking?" "No."

"Yeah, me neither. Panic doesn't help anyone. I'll panic when I know the full scope of this. Still, why the tree?" She carefully maneuvered the tongues to the bullet and grabbed it.

"Humans weren't designed to look up. So most often they don't." Dolores nodded as if she'd actually paid attention and started pulling out the bullet.

"Okay. So what's our current plan?"

"Our plan? Our plan is to get you back to a city. Then my plan is to get the fuck out of here."

"Ha!" Triumphantly Dolores held up the bullet. She quickly let it drop to the floor and immediately got out the needle and some thread.

"No, I don't think that's a good plan." She could feel him tensing up under her, probably in frustration and regret of ever saving that blabbermouth of hers. After five stitches the wound was closed and she started applying some disinfectant before putting on the gauze. She applied pressure with the two rolled packages before tying them to the wound with the bandage. James wanted to get up, probably to get as much distance between him and her, but she just held him down. His anger frightened her, anger being the one emotion she really couldn't deal with, but her doctorate gave her courage and authority she would normally never have. She shuffled closer to him and gently pried off his sleeves from his flesh arm. The cuts were clean, like from glass. And really, there were still splinters of glass in his arm. She took up the tongues again and started picking out the splitter. As he clearly didn't deem her worthy of a response, she just kept talking to concentrate.

"I mean, you have a shot wound and an open arm, and I was injected with some mystery liquid that knocked me out for the whole night. They way I took it, they'll think you broke out, so our best bet is getting to New York. That's where Steve and the others are set up. He'll know how to fix this mess. I mean, we can definitely trust him, if there is anyone that believes in you, it's Steve. Seeking his protection seems the most logical thing right now." She had picked out all the glass shards and wiped the wound with disinfectant and gauze for some good measure. When she was sure the cuts were clean, she applied fresh gauze and wrapped the whole thing up.  
  
As soon as she was done, James stood up and started walking. Dolores sighed and hastily grabbed what of the instruments she might still use once sterilized, stuffed it in her backpack and jogged after him. She slowed down about five meters behind him and just followed him. His movements were faster, cleaner now, and Dolores was satisfied he seemed to be feeling less pain. But that didn't seem to make him think he could slow down for her. She understood what he was trying, to shake her off. He knew she had her phone on her, she would find her way to civilization, but she wasn't going to be gotten rid of that easily. She picked out her phone and turned it off before she continued her mental rant. He needed help, not only his mind but his soul and as it seemed, his body also. And she was his doctor. Just because the circumstances had changed, didn't mean her responsibility towards him had. She had fled from that responsibility once before, she wasn't going to make that mistake again.

That thought sent a pang of pain into her chest and winced quietly. But the pain wasn't the usual little stab, today it decided to linger. It made itself a nest of thorns around her heart and bristled it's spines to stab it with every beat. This situation was just too familiar. She stopped and dropped the pack. She rummaged around in the back compartment until she had found what she was looking for. Quickly she took it out and put the pack back on. James had moved on, putting a good hundred meters between them now, but Dolores didn't mind that. She kept following him, clutching the watercolor set to her chest. She had lost the normal one, but she hadn't dared leave Nessy's set on the shelf while the workers were in there, too afraid it might be broken or stolen.

Dolores tried to distract herself from her thoughts and the lingering pain in her chest that even overpowered the one in her neck, but it had no use. The thoughts kept swirling, and without music to drone them out there was nothing she could do. Soon tears were falling down her cheeks and she was glad the Soldier was so far ahead. He wouldn't be able to tell her uneven breathing from breathlessness and wouldn't be able to see her tears. She tried to steer her mind to happier memories, but that changed little, except that she was now smiling while crying.

They walked for hours and soon Dolores lost her feeling for both time and her feet. She definitely wasn't wearing the right shoes for a daylong hike, but she didn't make a sound. The Soldier ahead still wanted to get rid of her, and she wouldn't give him the chance to. He might not see it, but she could help him. Successful running from the country meant he would have to sleep, and the way she saw it, she was the only one that had been able to grant him that in some time.

However, her theory was upheaved when the sun set, the forest grew dark, and they were still walking. Her feet were killing her by now, but she had already gotten used to that, but now the un-coordinance of tiredness added to that. She fell further and further behind. Her stomach was growling and her throat was killing her. Ignoring the first two problems, she stared at the Soldiers back, willing herself not to fall further back, while working on the latter. Just when she had realized she could clean water with the stuff in her bag, she caught a glimpse of him.

He wasn't so much angry at her, as he was scared. Not terrified, not really scared. But the small unease of knowing something was off. He didn't know what to do with her, didn't understand why she was still following him. She often forgot that others couldn't read her as well as she could read them. He still toyed with the thought of her being an agent, but it didn't seem plausible which only worsened his confusion. If he didn't know her motive, he couldn't predict her actions.

In her mind, she tried to formulate a way in which she could convince him not to worry, but nothing seemed to sound right. She had already told him she was useless and therefore no threat and telling him that again would only encourage him to leave her behind. She could explain to him why she was following him, but even she wasn't sure of that. It was a weird mixture of responsibility towards him, her oath, Steve, and Nessy. If she couldn't explain it to herself, how could she even try to explain it to herself?

Her thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly almost ran into him. She had been so focused on her feet, willing them to keep walking and not stumble over something, she only saw him when he was right in front of her. She skidded to a halt and fell over her own feet. He watched her with cold calculating eyes as she tried to prop herself up on her shaking hands. He bent down, and when she saw what he was aiming at, she sprang at the little metal case, faster than even he could react. Surprised he looked down.

"Don't fucking touch it," she hissed. Taken aback by her sudden hostility, he straightened himself back up and started climbing the nearest tree. Immediately sorry for what she had said, Dolores curled up at the roots of another tree, carefully taking off her shoes. She was happy to note that no blisters had formed yet and massaged her feet which felt like bleeding stump. She didn't let go of the metal case once.

Her thoughts circled around what she had said, and the shocked and slightly hurt look in his eyes before he climbed the tree. Every time she replayed the words they became worse and worse, cutting deeper and deeper, and every time she pictured his look again, it became more and more hurt. No wonder. He had judged her to be nice and kind. Maybe he had actually even trusted her, trusted her not to hurt him. Eventually, she started crying again, her head pounding, only adding to her hurting feet and throbbing neck. The pain made her cry even harder and she huddled over the metal case, drawing herself into a tight ball. She didn't make a sound and had no intentions of stopping the flow of tears, panic, fear and hurt. She had to let it out now, then she would be fine tomorrow. She kept repeating that sentence like a mantra until the clicking of a gun against her ear made her mind freeze.


	10. Day 3, 21:43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra catches up

"Get up slowly. Don't get any idea or you and your precious Soldier are dead meat." Dolores swallowed and got up. The man beside her was afraid. He was angry and vicious and bloodthirsty, but beneath that thin sheet of pretended strength, he was afraid. He was afraid of a danger he knew was there and would hit him, but he couldn't place the nature of it and how to handle.

Dolores breathing quickened. How could she know that? She hadn't even seen his face, hadn't seen him move! His hand on the back of her neck grew rougher and tore her up. The sudden move pressed the barrel of the gun right into her temple and caused her to stumble, making her loose the grip on Nessy's metal case. It clattered to the floor and opened, spilling a letter and six tiny pans onto the forest floor. Dolores let out a terrified squeal and wanted to grasp the colors, but a searing pain tore through the arm that had been reaching out and a sound like lightning, tearing through the air. Fire severed through her arm, her whole arm was on fire. She wanted to cry and fear and terror took over her mind.

Until the man with the gun stepped on the now empty metal case and dug it into the ground.

***

James had heard the doctors crying and had wondered whether he should climb back down. But he didn't know what he should have done once he would have gotten down there, so he stayed up in the tree. He would have to deal with his own confusion, with his own questions first. For example, why the hell she was following him. She was clearly having a hard time keeping up, but she didn't stop. He knew she could just call anyone on her phone, get Steve or her family to pick her up. She had patched him up, she had seen the danger posed to her if she stayed close, but still, she was trying her best to keep up. She had stopped at one point and he had hoped to have lost her, but she kept following him after a few minutes. But why? He hadn't done anything to make her like him, and her employment had to have been lifted after his escape. She only put herself in a worse light by sticking around. It confused him and he tried to shake the terrible buzzing of thoughts out of his head. That's when he heard the click.

The unlocking of the safety of a gun was as familiar to him as his own heartbeat. And as was the reaction. His body tensed and he turned towards the sound before the realisation had even hit his brain. He heard the sentence muttered into the doctor's ear and immediately scanned the area for other areas. They wouldn't have sent one man to kill him. Hydra knew better than that. Suddenly a shot echoed through the forest and Bucky spun around. He heard the doctor's cry and saw the blood flow down her arm.

Then suddenly something happened.

The soldier took a step forward and the doctor tensed. Something under her left sleeve started to glow, as did something in her face, and the soldier started to scream. He dropped his gun as his body contorted in pain from an invisible source and the screams that echoed through the forest were not human anymore. Animalistic screeching tore from the soldier's throat, his convulsing throat forcing out sounds that seemed more like a banshee's cry rather than anything that human vocal cords should be able to produce. But it wasn't long. The soldier thrashed around, desperately trying to hit the source of his pain until his movements became more slurry, weaker. Then he suddenly dropped and moved no more.

James was shocked to stay the least. Fear dug its claws into his heart, but he shook it off. He had to get away from here. The gun shots and the screams had pinned them, they had to move. Swiftly he let himself drop from the tree The wound in his abdomen had started to hurt again, but it was much better than before and his head wasn't as dizzy from blood loss anymore. The doctor seemed to be unconscious beside the soldier, who, James noticed, was dead. She was still carrying the backpack, which he quickly pried off her back to pull it over his own shoulders. Again, he picked her up and had already started moving when he saw a sliver of silver on the ground. The colors. They seemed too unimportant to stop, but then he remembered to soft crunching sound that had reached his ears just before the soldier had started screaming. He saw the metal case dug into the ground and quickly set the doctor down. If she had done that, whatever it was, to the soldier who had just stepped on the empty case, he didn't want to know what would happen if she learned he had left it behind. Swiftly he shook the dirt out of the case and quickly swooped up the six little glittering discs of color and the folded sheet of paper, enclosed them back into the metal box and put it into the pocket of his pants. He took the doctor into his arms and started moving. 

He didn't know if she was knocked out because of the long march or because of what she had done, but it made it easier to move at his pace. But while he had nothing but the ground and the sounds of the forest to distract himself, his thoughts started spinning again.

What the hell had happened back there? Had the doctor done that on purpose? Had she known? Of course, she had, she had to have known? Would she have told him? Why had she kept it hidden? What else had she kept hidden from him? Why the hell was he taking a woman with him he knew so little about? Was she only more danger? She was careless and untrained, as had been shown to him yet again. Why was he slowing himself down with her? He didn't need sleep, he could move faster without her being a hindrance.

A little voice in the back of his head knew. Because she was in just as much danger as he was. Because he had heard the same fear in her crying that he had felt ever since being discovered in Romania.

He shook his head. He had to concentrate. He had to find a safe place and put a bandage on her wound. He concentrated on moving efficiently and quickly and soon fell into the welcomed trance of the Soldier on a mission.

After walking for a good hour, he heard nothing but the sounds of the forest around him and the silent stalking of his own boots on the forest floor. As soon as he was sure that nobody had followed them this far, he put the doctor down. Her face was pale and her brown furrowed as if she was having a nightmare. He found the bandages she had used on him earlier and tore open the packages. He didn't know what the doctor had used to disinfect his wound, but he knew that the first priority was to stop the blood loss. He tried to put pressure on the bandage and soon the red flower on the bandage stopped growing. He picked her up again and kept walking. He shifted her so that she had her arms draped around his neck and her legs under his arms. It was easier to remain his balance like this and he could clearly see where he was going. Eventually, he slowed down a bit, adjusting his tempo so that he could maintain the tempo for the whole night.

***

Dolores woke up in the Soldiers arms. Her head rested against his right arm and she could sense... everything. She felt his confusion, mostly at himself but also at her. She felt the slight knot of fear that had latched onto his stomach, like a black tumor that was always there, as long as he could remember and that lashed out at every sound that was not the soft rustling of his boots. She felt his concentration, the thousand thoughts that crashed around his head.

Terrified at the sudden intensity of her understanding, Dolores jerked up, breaking contact with his skin. Only now did he notice that she was awake. He stopped and put her down, and for the first time did she feel the harsh sting in her arm. He dropped her backpack beside her and Dolores furrowed her brow, trying to remember how she had ended up in the Soldiers arms. She remembered him storming ahead, wanting to loose her. They had stopped and he had climbed up a tree. Then her memory got lost as if a trail of ink suddenly touched water. She tried to grasp the trail, tried to follow the line of ink, but it blurred, vanished into the black ocean, and she gasped. The Soldier, James, looked at her, a hint of worry in his eyes.

But he interpreted her little sound of anguish different. Immediately his attention turned to her arm, where pain of fire started to scorch her nerves. He gently pushed her jacket away and started unwrapping the blood-soaked gauze.

"Sorry," he said, meaning the pain that was forcing tears into her eyes. "I don't know how to do this." He gestured towards the gauze that now lay on the forest floor. Dolores tried to think through her pain.

"Hydra never bothered to teach you first aid? What if you got wounded?" He shrugged his shoulders and opened the backpack.

"They taught me the basics. Don't loose blood, keep it clean." He shoved the backpack towards her so that she could reach the supplies with her uninjured right hand. "I only had to get back to the base, the doctors would fix me up." Dolores noticed the ice in his voice as he mentioned the doctors, again making her wonder what they had done to install such a deep instinctual fear in him.

"Okay. No problem. I can't do anything with only one hand, but you just have to follow my instructions." She handed him a square gauze and the disinfectant. "You have to clean away the blood, see if there's anything in the wound, shrapnel, dirt, anything. Is the bullet still inside?" James shook his head and Dolores leaned back her head in relief. She trusted James to be careful, she could clearly sense his worry, but she still didn't feel so confident at the thought of him poking around in her arm with the tongs. He leaned closer to her arm, inspecting the wound closely, dabbing away any blood and dirt that had settled in and around it.

"Okay, if it's all clean, spray the disinfectant directly onto the wound. Enough that it starts running down. That will..." Dolores pulled in her breath sharply through her gritted teeth as the alcohol touched the wound. It was a pain she was familiar to, but she still wasn't prepared for the second layer of fire surging through her veins. James' eyes shot up to her, trying to see if he had done anything wrong.

"That will wash out any remaining dirt and keep infections at bay," she gasped and tried to control her breathing. She pointed at a clean rolled gauze.

"Good. Now wrap it up." He ripped open the package with ease and carefully placed the sterile patch on the wound before wrapping the rest of the bandaging around her arm. Dolores concentrated on her breathing and the pain. A sudden squeal escaped her lips as his fingers brushed her arm and a sudden wave of foreign worry, fear, wonder and confusion washed over her. Immediately James stopped but she motioned him to go on. His skin didn't touch hers again and a thought began nagging at her mind. The pain at the back of her neck. Probably an injection. James' headache the first night. He had said that the Sergeant had entered his cell alone and that all the other swats had chased him down after he had knocked the Sergeant out. The sudden flashes of emotion.

When she spoke, her words were slow, stumbling over her tongue unwillingly, as unfinished and confused as the thought they represented, unsure what to do, now that they hung in the air.

"James..." His attention shifted from closing the backpack to her. "What happened? The last thing I can remember is you climbing up the tree. I stayed on the floor. What happened then?" Again worry dashed over his face, too fleeting to see, but Dolores sensed it.

"A soldier from the swat pointed his gun at your head and made you stand up. You lost the box you were holding and wanted to get it. He shot you. He stepped on the case. Then he started screaming and screaming and then dropped dead. You were unconscious. I picked you up and got out of there." Dolores nodded slowly, images of last night trailing after his words like lazy ducklings. When he mentioned the case her head snapped up.  


"The case. You have it?" Panic simmered into her voice, and she felt like she might cry in relief when he took out the case and handed it to her. There was a small scratch on the bottom of it, but otherwise, it seemed unharmed. Dolores held on to the case as if letting it go meant death. But her relief was short-lived when her thoughts returned to last night.

"Why did the soldier die?" James shrugged his shoulders, and Dolores knew that he was hiding something from her. He was unsure, didn't know what had happened and that terrified him.

"Something on your arm and your face started glowing and he screamed. I couldn't see, I was behind you. Then he suddenly dropped dead." Dolores nodded, her terrible suspicion growing firmer and firmer.

"I think we might have a problem." Her voice faltered to nothing but a whisper and she clutched the case even tighter. Before James could answer, she kept talking.

"What were you doing after I left you on the first night?" Her gaze bored into him, trying to detect every little hint, every emotion. Her stare made him uncomfortable, and he grew unsure, not knowing what she was getting at.

"Nothing." Her eyes bored into him and he looked away.

"I don't know what to call it. It's what I used to do between Hydra missions when they were too close together for them to freeze me. It clears my mind and makes me forget time." Dolores nodded, gaining a sudden sense of the feeling he was describing. The intensity of the insight shocked her, shocked her because it fitted perfectly with her theory, the one she desperately wanted to be wrong.

"What do you notice when you are doing that?" James shrugged his shoulders, letting his gaze drift over the forest, subconsciously scanning for anything that wasn't supposed to be there.

"Nothing really. I don't need to pay attention, Hydra would beat me if I was ready to jump for them or not, so it was easier to just snap out of it at the pain. Like that, I only 'woke up' if it was really a mission, and not at every single sound." Dolores nodded.

"Okay. Fuck."

"Why are you asking that?"

"I think I know what happened..." Her voice trailed off and broke.

"What happened?" Dolores nodded. She drew a shaky breath and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear before she started to explain her theory.

"Both of the soldiers that attacked you, us, were from that swat team. So I guess it's safe to assume the whole team was Hydra." James tensed at that thought, but she saw that he thought it was reasonable. "They didn't want to bust you out, they could have done that while bringing you here, or at night while I was gone. No, they wanted you in an environment you couldn't break out of. The rest is guessing on my part, but it would make sense." His eyes bore into her, and suddenly she found his gaze intimidating. What if she was right? Would he still tolerate her sticking to him? Dolores closed her eyes to keep talking.

"If they wanted you in a cell for something, they could have taken you, would make things easier. But they wanted you in that specific one. Steve told me some things about it, it was originally built for the Hulk, something much stronger than you. My guess is that your headaches came from a serum they injected you. They wanted to try to alter you even further. You're their best, so why not try to enhance you. The serum probably clashed with the Super- soldier serum, that's the headaches." Dolores tried to breathe steadily while her own thoughts made more and more sense to her as she spoke them out loud.

"When they saw it didn't work on you, they gave it to me. I don't know why, but I'm guessing that's the injection." She felt for the sensitive spot stat still stung in pain as she touched it.

"They wanted to kill you and take me instead. Since you were in that cell, they probably saw it as an easy feat. Maybe that's why the team was so bad." She laughed nervously. James stared at her, trying to process what she had just said.

"Why do you think it was a serum?" His voice was calm and quiet. Dolores thought how his exterior was always inversely proportional to the situation.

"I'm guessing it's a mixture of what the Scalet Witch got and what you and Steve got. Enhancing psychological characteristics."

"Why?" Dolores realized she hadn't answered his original question.

"The soldier. I think he was in pain because I wanted him to be. He stepped on Nessy's case, and in that moment, I was so angry and in so much pain, I just wanted him to feel what I was feeling. I wanted him to be in as much pain as I was. And then there's this." Dolores slowly stretched her fingers out. James backed away, eyeing her trembling hand like a dangerous animal.

"It won't hurt." Her skin grazed his and Dolores drew a sharp breath as her suspicions were confirmed. She could feel exactly what he was feeling. Fear. Confusion. Slow burning terror. Pain from his abdomen. Worry. Hatred.

Dolores tore her hand away, tears in her eyes. She didn't want to cry again, but it seemed like the whole world was crashing down on her, burying her beneath its uncaring weight. She held on to Nessy's metal box for dear life as the Soldier stared at her, unsure whether to worry or be terrified of shivering woman in front of him.

"We need to go to New York."


	11. Day 4, 7:09

James shook his head.

"No. You need to go to New York." Dolores looked up. She could see the resolution building inside of him. She wondered if the serum had also enhanced her ability to sense emotions, even without touch.

"Please, James. You can't just leave me here." Dolores could feel more tears building up inside of her and she rubbed them away from her eyes with her healthy hand. "I mean, of course, you can, but please don't. I need your help!"

***

Bucky looked at the woman in front of him, begging him to stay. The absurdity of that thought struck him. People only ever begged him to leave. To spare them. Flashes of crying faces twisted in terror and anguish flashed before his mind and he closed his eyes to force them away. He looked at the woman. Her theory made sense, which meant she now also had powers. He might not have her skills, but he could easily understand what she was feeling. He knew that feeling all too well. He remembered it from the first few times he woke up. The sudden loss of control, the sudden fear of oneself. The feeling of every safety being ripped from you, even your own body, your own mind foreign and hostile.

He wanted to run, flee from the tentacles of Hydra inching ever closer. He wanted to disappear like the ghost the stories told he was, vanish from the radar of humanity and try to understand his fractured soul and body in peace, away from the face of the world, where nobody would find him, where nobody could touch him. Everything in him wanted to flee the constant stirrings of humanity, run to a place where the air never moved, where not a single human breath but his ruptured the air.

His gaze fell on the crying woman in front of him again. He was amazed at how much she could cry. They didn't have enough water to replace all those tears. Her face was swollen and her eyes were red. He pulled out the half empty water bottle of the doctor, Dot, from the backpack and gave it to her.

"You cry a lot," he noted. She stared at the bottle.

"I usually don't. I haven't cried in four years." A sad smile brushed her lips with wings of distant memory.

"Nessy was the last one to see me cry. Actually, the only one. She was the only one to ever see me cry." Bucky watched her face, tried to read it like she could read him, but he couldn't grasp anything but a painfully beautiful smile.

"I will take you to New York. When you are safe, I will go." Her eyes shot up to meet his and immediately he turned his gaze away. He wanted to tell himself he did that to avoid her reading him better than she already could. But he knew why. He feared already that he would not be able to keep his promise.

A smile exploded on her lips.

"Thank you! But you can also stay. I want to go to the place were Steve stays. All the Avengers stay there, or at least most of them do. Some of them have pretty amazing abilities, they can keep us safe." Bucky just shook his head. The smile faded from her face, but she didn't cry again.

"How will we get there?" Dot reached out to the backpack with her right hand, leaving the metal case in her lap, and started rummaging in one of the compartments until she pulled out her cellphone. She stared at it for a while before she spoke.

"I guess I'll just call Steve. He can have Stark locate us."

"So can Hydra." Dolores nodded as if she had already thought of that.

"Yeah, I know. But you can hide us, can't you? We'll just climb up a tree, call them, and only come down when Steve comes to get us." Bucky wanted to smile at her naivety, how she thought that trick might work twice, but he didn't. He realized it was the only idea they had right now. He would have to change tactics slightly, but the concept would still work. He nodded.

"Can you walk?" Dolores nodded. She stuffed both her phone and the case into the pockets of her jacket, pulled it back on while hissing in pain and scrambled to a stand. Bucky watched her eagerness in amusement, then he packed up the backpack and swung it onto his shoulder. He left the trash they had produced where it was, knowing it would be like breadcrumbs for the soldiers looking for them. Now they just had to find a good place to hide, as close by as possible.

They started walking slowly, Bucky in the lead, Dot trailing behind him. He took in their surroundings, carefully listening for any sound that was out of place. But since finding, climbing onto and helping Dot up a seemingly impossible to climb, high tree wasn't too hard, his thoughts went spiraling out of control.

Most of all, he wondered why he had agreed to help her. Whenever he asked himself that question, his mind drifted back to the first time she had come into the cell. She hadn't been afraid. No, she had been furious, but not with him. She almost had seemed to take no notice of him. As if he was just another patient she could ignore until she wanted to talk to him. In her own strange way, she had treated him normally. She had brought things she treasured into the cell. She had painted in the cell. Bucky tried to remember whether anybody had ever done something so normal in his vicinity. He couldn't. Maybe that was the reason he felt so strangely attached to her. Because she had trusted him. She had trusted him the way a human instinctively trust another. With her, he had never been a weapon, a tool, a broken pile of shards or just another psycho. The way she treated him made him feel just a little more human.

Bucky could feel a small smile plucking at his lips as he watched her settle against a branch fork. It confused him. He wasn't sure anymore what he wanted, and that confused him more than her behavior towards him.

Her question interrupted his thoughts.

"Shouldn't we get further away?" She pointed at the trash about fifty meters away from them. "They'll no we were here." James nodded. He was startled at how easily the words slipped from his lips. The same in the cell. He hadn't wanted to talk to anybody at all, but the words just escaped the prison of his lips, slipped past the guard of his teeth.

"They will see that whoever of us is wounded, is not wounded badly. There is not enough blood for that. They will only we are still mobile and will try to guess where we went. Getting as far from here makes the most sense since we were apparently in such a hurry that we couldn't even cover our tracks. They will look for tracks, but not for us."

An odd sensation tugged at his stomach and he watched a strange fire light up in her eyes. It seemed happy, but not only. It was amazement.

"That's awesome. I get now why it took forever to find you." She smiled. She was talking about Romania. Bucky felt the urge to imitate her smile, but all he could muster was a sad upwards tug of his lips. Dot took her phone out of her pocket and looked at him, the obvious question in her eyes. She nodded.

She thumbed around on the phone for a while before she seemed to find the right button and held it to her ear. Her whole face followed her words. It lit up at "Hey Steve!" and turned into a patient smile as the person on the other line seemed to rant away. She rolled her eyes sarcastically whenever she said "yes", "I know", and "sure". Only once did her smile falter when she was able to talk. "Sure, please do. But the Hydra swats are also still following us, so James said, so hurry up. We'll come out when we see you. Codeword is the first sentence I ever said to you." Childlike excitement mixed into her gleam at the last sentence and she hung up. As soon as she looked up at him, her emotions were reserved again, controlled. A pang of envy struck his guts. He wondered if her emotions would ever run as freely when he was around. He forced the thought out of his head. He would be long enough for that. As soon as she was safe with Steve, he would be gone.


	12. Day 4, 7:46

Moving her left arm sent streaks of fire through her whole body, but Dolores clenched her teeth together. She had gotten three bandages out of the bag. One was already wrapped around her left hand, but wrapping the second around turned out to be far more painful. But eventually, she managed to tie the bandage and let out the breath she had held. She waited until the pain subsided before turning to the third bandage. She tore open the packaging and began binding Nessy's metal case to her hip, fastening it at her belt. She'd never lose it again.

She felt James' eyes on her and sensed his wonder at her actions. When she was done she looked up and smile. She held up her now completely bandaged hands.

"I don't want to touch you by accident." James furrowed his brow in further confusion. Without having to guess, she knew what he was thinking. It was an advantage, knowing what the enemy was feeling. He couldn't understand why she would give up such an advantage, especially when she couldn't defend herself from him.  
"Enough people have poked around in you without permission. Therapy is always built on trust. And especially now when I'm at your mercy," she winked. He was startled and looked away and Dolores closed her eyes to find comfort in the sounds of the forest and the metal strapped to her leg.

All of this was so surreal. One day she was working in a hospital, staying awake all night, pondering over files and patients, next thing, Captain America asked her to help the Winter Soldier. And now she was on the run from Hydra and about every Government in the World. She wondered how Steve was planning to hold his promise. But that was his and Starks problem. She shuddered at the name and her hand fled to the box. She just hoped that she would be able to stay with James.

Her mind froze at the thought. What?! She couldn't deny the truth of the sentence. She didn't want him to be alone. But why?! She tried to tell herself that it was purely professional interest. He had started to open up to her, her methods had worked. It might be fatal to switch to another psychologist, the implications of such a move maybe causing him to shut off altogether. But she knew herself that that wasn't all. She felt a strange sort of attachment to him that went beyond professional responsibility. But she managed to write even that off as professional. He was a broken spirit, it was only natural for her to want him to have a friend, someone to trust. It would aid his shattered mind to heal.

...

The sound of a chopper tore her out of her thoughts. Both she and James were staring at the sky, the roaring of the machine deafening. The sounds tore through the air and whirled Dolores' mind around. James' gaze, however, was fixated on the ground, where a tall man with a familiar shield and cap inspected the trash they had left on the ground to throw off the Hydra swats. Dolores grinned and moved to climb down the tree, but James held her back. His whole figure was tense, his cold eyes taking in every move the Captain made. He was absolutely still as the Hydra training seemed to kick in. Even unmoving like this he seemed dangerous, deadly. Dolores had seen Captain America fight and had always been impressed by his purposeful, strong movements, but the Soldier was something completely different. He climbed several branches lower with lethal precision, every move wanted and necessary, never moving further, wasting more energy than needed. Captain America had always reminded Dolores of a lion with all his strength and blonde hair, but now he seemed more like a flightless canary, preyed upon by a panther.

James motioned her to stay where she was. He didn't even look back to see whether she agreed. The command structure was clear. In this moment, James, the Soldier was the most powerful man. Like a shadow he dropped to the floor, invisible in the foliage he had hidden in. The Captain hadn't even noticed yet, still looking for tracks. He began pulling out a sleek device, probably to check up on the coordinates when a knife pressed itself into his throat and he froze. Nothing but the knife touched him, giving him nothing but the cold metal blade to go on.

Dolores stared at the action below her in amazement. She had no idea where James had hidden the knife or where he had gotten it from. She hadn't been able to warn the Captain as she had lost sight of the Soldier as soon as he had dropped to the floor. She was as surprised as the Captain when James pressed the knife to his throat. She dared not shriek, unsure how the Soldier might react.

The Captain did his best to keep calm. His heart raced at the unidentified threat, but the tension ceased as he heard a painfully familiar rough voice behind him.  
"What is the sentence?" Dolores grinned as the Captain repeated the words she had told James earlier.  
"Sure am. Come in, reek havoc, have some coffee." The Captain took a step forward and James released him, tucking the knife back into his boot. Dolores wondered is he had a special compartment. She made her way to the lower branched when suddenly a hand pressed itself onto her mouth and a gunshot sounded below.

***

Steve snapped around as a gunshot tore through the air. He heard Bucky beside him hiss in pain. He scanned his friend quickly as Bucky's metal hand held his wounded shoulder. Blood painted the silver red, but Bucky paid no attention to it. He pulled a pistol from his belt and held it steady in his metal hand. Then hell broke loose.  
Seven men in black uniform ran at them, three from up front and two each from the side. Another fell from a tree further away, dragging something with him. Steve instinctively blocked the first bullets with his shield, while Bucky hid behind his metal arm. They moved like one body, Steve kicking one of the men on the left in the guts, following up with a punch to the face which left the man on the floor. He blocked the second guy's attempts to hit his head with his shield and knocked the vibranium into his neck, leaving the man choking, defenseless against Steve's elbow against his nose. Both men down, Steve whirled around to help Bucky. Both men that had tried to come at them from the right were already dead, blood seeping from neat holes between their eyes, one of the four men that had come straight at them was clutching the stump where his right hand should have been. Three were left standing. One of them held Bucky's knife to his throat, the second was securing something to his metal arm and the third was aiming a gun right at Steve. He grinned.

"Drop the shield, Captain America!" Steve could feel his blood boiling a the mocking tone in the man's voice, but he knew he had to keep his calm. He unfastened his shield from his arm and set it down on the floor.

"Hands up!" Steve slowly lifted his arms, folding his hands behind his head. Seemingly satisfied, the gunman turned his attention the Bucky, whose expression was rigid with pain and the device on his arm seemed to send electric shocks through it, immobilizing it. Steve wanted to help his friend, but he was very aware of both of their vulnerability. One move and both of them were dead.

A fourth man joined the three, dragging Dolores with him. Her face seemed to compete with the bandage on her arm for the whitest color. Her eyes were full of fear as her look fled from him to the armed men. The man that held her had cuffed her hands before her body. He kicked her knees from behind her, causing her to fall to her knees beside Bucky. Steve couldn't help but notice the glances his friend was stealing at the doctor.  
  
"Well, isn't this the jackpot. Captain America, the mutant doctor and the great Winter Soldier," the man with the knife started. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

"You know, you're not half as scary as the stories they tell," the man addressed Bucky. He just glared back at him, not answering, not moving. The man turned his attention to the knife on Bucky's throat.

"They don't really want you back. As a collectible, but as an asset, you're now worthless, now that we have the doctor." He began sliding the blade gently over Bucky's throat.  
"I could slit your throat, right here, and nobody would give a shit."

"No!" Dolores' eyes were wide in panic, her voice shrill. The man with the knife threw his hand across her face without letting go of the knife, the sound of bone hitting flesh and the doctors cry of pain mixing. She fell, robbed of her balance, blood seeping over her neck, oozing from the cut across her jar. Steve couldn't help but marvel the man's precision. From the dialogue, he took that they were really only after her, and Steve was impressed at the man's confidence with the knife, to hit her with it, just ever so barely missing her throat. He wanted to turn his attention back to Bucky, who too was loosing blood now not only from the wound in his shoulder and one in his abdomen but also a small cut on the side of his throat.

That's when the man dropped his knife. His body convulsed in agony, raw, guttural sound forcing themselves from his throat. Bucky's gaze immediately shot to Dolores, and Steve followed. Her eyes were glowing white, as was a line on her wrist. He jaw was clenched. She seemed to be looking at nothing as she slowly rose back to her knees, not bothering to remove the dirt clinging to her face. The man with the gun attempted a move towards her, but he also started screaming, and the other two followed.

Bucky flinched and Steve pressed his hands over his ears, trying desperately to block out the cries of pure agony and desperation that crashed through the woods. The primal pain in their attackers' voice struck him to the core and he wanted nothing but to stop it, stop their pain, but he was frozen, staring at the doctors haunting appearance. Her iris was completely gone, her eyes glowing silver-white, the same color as the line on her wrist. She didn't move, kneeling beside Bucky, her gaze turned to the men that were writhing under her gaze. Her face was expressionless, and both Steve and Bucky were frozen to the spot until the screaming slowly ebbed away, the last sound of agony whisping into the air with the last of the men's breath.

Silence settled over them. Bucky looked up at Steve, his expression showing the same horror at what they had just witnessed as his. The doctor blinked, her eyes returning to normal, the glow fading with the last of the men's lives. She let out a quiet groan of exhaustion and tumbled over, holding on to Bucky as she fell against him. Steve quickly picked up his shield and rushed to them.

He kneeled down in front of them, tearing away the device on Bucky's arm, watching as relief flooded his friend's expression as the pain stopped.

"What the hell was that?!" Bucky shook his head as he climbed to his feet.

"No time to explain, there might be more. Get her out of here! She can explain." Dolores nodded weakly and let herself be helped up by Bucky. She could barely stand and stumbled against Steve as Bucky gently shoved her towards him. Steve grabbed her, stabilizing her weak frame. Bucky took a step backward.

"Buck?" Bucky met his confused gaze.

"I have to get out of here. I have to go." He turned to leave, but Steve held on to his hand.

"Buck, you can stay. You're safe with us. Hydra can't get you at the tower, you'll be safe there. And I'm sure we can also fix this accord mess." Bucky shook his head and took another step backward.

"Please. You promised to take me there." Dolores' voice was weak and she almost fell as she pushed herself of Steve towards Bucky. Steve watched his friend intently as the other man's figure changed, the hostility and urgency melting away as he stepped forward to help the doctor. Dolores held on to him firmly, not just for the support it seemed, and tried to pull him in Steve's direction.

"Don't run. We can fix that. Just for a while. If..." Her breath seemed to leave her and Bucky seemed to want to hand her back to Steve, but she shook her head, refusing to let him go.

"If you don't like it, I'll make sure to get you to any country you want to. I'll give you the money I have, and you can disappear. Just one month." Her gaze was firm, and Steve almost smiled as he saw his friends' resolution crumble under her gaze. He wondered what had happened in only four days that she had such an influence over him. Bucky looked from her to him, his eyes questioning.

"Sure. Whatever she says. Now let's go. You're bleeding." Bucky frowned as he only now seemed to notice the blood staining his shirt both on his belly and his arm. He helped Dolores walked and followed Steve to the clearing where the chopper had landed.

...

Nat shot him a skeptical look as he brought the bleeding Winter Soldier and a half unconscious civilian woman to the chopper.

"Let's get back. Banner has to look at this." Steve noticed how tense Bucky was as the chopper took to the air. He had helped Dolores get to a seat and was making no move to sit down. His gaze bore into him as Steve moved towards him.

"Easy, okay." Steve gestured to the bandage in his hand.

"Just to stop the bleeding." Bucky nodded and carefully sat down on the floor beside the doctors' seat. Steve settled down beside him. Bucky wordlessly handed him his knife just as Steve wanted to look around for something to cut Bucky's shirt off the wound. He grinned and went to work, bandaging the wound as good as he could manage.

"You okay?" Bucky nodded and closed his eyes, the full extent of his exhaustion flashing across his face for a second. He probably hadn't slept in the two days since he had left the compound. Steve got up.

"Get into a seat, you'll fall out." Bucky shot him an unsure smile as Steve made his way to the seat beside Nat.

"Not too talkative is, your friend." Nat shot him a glance before concentrating on the instruments again.

"He's tried and wounded, and doesn't really trust any of us. I wouldn't expect him to be chatting away."

***

James' figure beside her shifted in and out of view, but Dolores could still tell how uneasy he was, hundreds of metres above the ground in a chopper flown by someone he neither knew nor trusted, to a destination unknown. He often glanced over at her, and she tried to soothe the worry in his countenance with tired smiles. Questions filled her head and one danced it's way onto her tongue, but it seemed to take forever until she could mister the strength to speak it.

"How do you feel?" Her head was slumped against the helicopter seat, her brain too heavy to be lifted, but she still managed to look at him, scan his face for his reaction. He glanced around nervously, his eyes flying over the window behind which Steve and the Black Widow sat. Dolores wanted to take the question back as she realised the cause for his unease. She wanted to hit herself for being so careless as to ask him to speak about him when they weren't alone.

"You don't have to answer, it's okay. We can talk when we're alone." James nodded but didn't leave Steve and especially the Black Widow out of his sight.

"You can relax, it's fine. That's the Black Widow. She's a friend of Steve's, she's also part of the Avengers. She's okay."

"You know her?" Dolores though about that, trying to answer the question truthfully.

"I've never met her, if you mean that. But I know a lot about her. About all of them. Nessy always knew more, but you could still call me a stalker." Dolores grinned weakly. Noticing that she had at least part of his attention she kept talking. He was tense, his look scanning the cabin as if he wanted to learn it's contents off by heart, but she could distract at least last of him.

"She is probably the one that has the most in common with you. She was a Russian spy before she switched sides. She was trained in the Black Widow Program in the Red Room. It's an extremely cruel program that's supposed to make them a perfect killing machine. She has no real super powers, but that's kind of her biggest power. People underestimate her a lot, heck, even I would probably underestimate her. Steve has it much harder in that aspect, everyone knows his skills. He has no ace to pull. Not that he could fit one in those sleeves." She giggled at her own joke and kept talking. Despite her exhaustion she was nervous, and being nervous got he talking. James eventually stopped looking around. He settled on a position from which he could monitor the whole cabin and fixed his gaze on her. His eyes boring into her might not have helped with her nerves, but as long as it distracted him, she was happy.


End file.
